The Alpha Effect: Part 2: Stained Memory
by Boomer Gonzales
Summary: Through the recollections of many, the past lives again. What secrets lie in the genesis of the SWA? Second of a three part series.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights; property, intellectual, financial, distribution, etc., to Gunslinger Girl. All rights therein are the possession of Yu Aida, Media Works Inc., and Funimation Entertainment. The above mentioned property is being used without permission.**_

**I**

A bright day illuminated the parking lot of the NATO Air Base Hospital. Even from far away, the entrance can be seen bustling with people carrying on with their personal business. In the rear, chaos is about to erupt. A wail of sirens arrives moments before a young boy is unloaded from an ambulance along with two adults.

After a few quick checks, the attending doctor straightened over the man and woman solemnly shaking his head. The young boy coughs up a mouthful of blood prompting the doctor's response. Surveying the small child, he informs the assistants that the boy's ribs are broken and one of them has punctured his lung. With a swift wave of his hand the assistants quickly rush the boy inside while the doctor remains to speak with the police.

The year was 1999 and the place was Crotone, Italy. A successful American businessman was on vacation with his wife and son. The three of them were enjoying a sailboat cruise when a freighter suddenly appeared around a small cape without sounding away. The family all tried to maneuver the small schooner out of its way, but ended up being tossed in the ship's wake. The manufactured waves had thrown the boat into a tall reef sending most of the vessel skyward before landing on rocks ahead; crushing what was left of the boat.

The crew of the freighter called out emergency S. O. S.'s and sent out small rafts of its own. The grim wreckage was evident upon first sight. The sailors made attempts to bandage their wounds, but they kept bleeding from everywhere. It would seem that the husband and wife attempted to shield their child from harm. For the most part they succeeded as their son was still breathing.

After retrieving a record of details, the doctor turned and briskly walked through the emergency corridor and into an operating room. Another physician had already begun to remove pieces of bone from the boy's chest cavity. From behind his mask, he glanced up at the doctor upon his arrival. His eyes spoke for both of them, this child was lucky to be alive.

After an hour, the boy had transfused four pints of AB negative. All of the bone fragments were recovered and the worst of the bleeding had stopped. When the surgeon stood back to look upon his work, he clenched his fist forcing himself not to turn away. No more than four ribs and a clavicle held the child's sternum in place. 'If this is what his chest looks like, I fear for the rest of his body,' the surgeon thought.

He gave the order to _close him up_ and stormed out of the operating room. Despite all his knowledge and skill, a thought penetrated his psyche for the first time. A life might not have been worth saving.

* * *

An old man smiled at himself in a vanity mirror. He had been called a few days ago to a meeting. A final stroke along his short, nappy, grey hair and he was ready. His name was Dr. Giacomo Gianncomo, a pioneer in human anatomic replacement.

This man, widely respected as a genius, had already designed and patented multiple limb replacement devices for a wide variety of maladies. His next venture was having trouble getting off the ground. Already holding the patent to a design to replace muscle tissue, skeletal mass and even nerve fiber; sparing patients the need for amputation. Unfortunately, investors were increasingly skeptical about this new idea. Despite his previous successes, investors were wary of regulations the United Nations kept updating.

Other responses to this new science came in the way of being _too risky_ or _too expensive _at the experimental level. It took all of Giacomo's will to refrain himself from the last potential investor, who referred to his research as ridiculous and having no benefit to humanitarian society. However, today was a new day and a new opportunity had presented itself.

A woman had notified him on behalf of an unnamed entity. All she said was that he was _very interested in his work and wished to meet at a hospital_. The doctor agreed and here he was making a final adjustment to his tie. After a final nod, he removed himself from the mirror and left for the hospital.

* * *

As Giacomo stepped through the automatic doors, he felt comfortable in these surroundings. The familiar smell of surticide and pine oil was almost inviting.

"Dr. Gianncomo?" addressed a young woman wearing a black suit.

"Ah, yes," the doctor said. "You must be the woman I spoke to over the phone."

"Will you please follow me?"

"Of course, it is good to meet you Miss…"

The doctor held out his hand, but she had already turned and marched to an elevator. Clearing his throat, the doctor followed her stiff gait.

Upon stepping into the elevator, Giacomo noticed that it was a freight elevator. The woman inserted a small key at the bottom of the control panel before the elevator moved. For a brief time Giacomo was nervous due the lengths the entity had gone to.

'A rich banker maybe or perhaps a high-profile politician,' Giacomo thought.

Shaking his head, Giacomo quickly dismissed the as typical of anal-attentive privacy. When the elevator stopped, Giacomo was surprised to find they were on the roof.

"This way Dr. Gianncomo," the woman said taking two steps out of the elevator.

Giacomo pulled on the front of his suit jacket once before stepping onto the roof. The woman pointed to the roof's edge where a single figure stood. Proceeding to the edge, Giacomo went to meet his potential benefactor.

Turning to face the doctor, the figure smiled.

"Dr. Giacomo Gianncomo, medical maverick and genius extraordinaire," the figure said extending his hand.

"It appears my reputation precedes me."

"That it would, but the pleasure is still mine."

Releasing his hand, the figure turned back to the ledge, "Doctor, I am in league with certain…_concerns_; that invest in projects with great potential use to us in both the short-term and long-term sense. We've become very interested in your research.

"So I've been informed. I beg your pardon, but you claim to be interested in my wares on a personal basis, yet I still don't know your name."

"Forgive me, where are my manners. My name is Giacomo Lorenzo."

"And one more detail if you please. What of these…_concerns_ that wish to partake of me?"

Smiling, Lorenzo slowly answered, "SISDE, the Italian Army, and especially the NOCS."

The silence between them lasted a few minutes, but expanded into eternity. Each minute recognized and every second torture. Giacomo had received offers from multiple government agencies across Europe. He was aware of the funds such agencies could command, his ideas could come about in ways even he couldn't dream of. He would never contract with one, for it would be paid piecemeal out of the pockets of many. Most of all, he was afraid of what such an entity would do with his works. _Remember Oppenheimer_ was an oath and salute valued for over fifty years after its underground inception.

"This conversation has ended," Giacomo flatly stated before walking to the elevator.

"Dr. Giacomo, a request if you will!" Lorenzo said.

"Not interested."

"Grant me a favor and I'll _personally_ compensate you for your time here."

"What kind of compensation?" Giacomo answered.

"Fifty thousand euro."

Staring forward for a moment, Giacomo nodded in agreement.

"Splendid, come with me please."

Lorenzo walked into the elevator in front of Giacomo. The woman stood at his side before Giacomo walked in.

"Ferro, take us to the fifth floor," Lorenzo said to the women in black. "I would like you to see our test subject, doctor."

"You already have a test subject?!"

"Yes, conveniently enough he came to us."

Giacomo stood in silence, aware of the double meanings governments were fond of. 'Should I refuse, will they let me go?' Giacomo thought. 'Very well, should I be destroyed, my work will die with me. I'd rather it be forgotten than used by those who would pervert it.'

They arrived from the elevator in front of set of double doors. Judging from the writing and specialty equipment, Giacomo determined they had arrived at the Intensive Care ward. He felt uneasy as the multiple patients around him lay in their beds, most of them comatose. 'Which one of these unfortunates would these monsters choose?'

The answer that came made him wish he'd never asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Giacomo had lost all sense of time; his eyes could not leave the figure before him. This monstrous result of nature's wrath; laying still with only a spirit harboring enough strength for the world could be able to wield any vigor into such a body. Only a child can possibly retain such a spirit making the sight of before the good doctor, a moral torture.

The child before him was as he shouldn't be. He was lying still when he should be running. Full of smiles instead of frowns, laughing out load instead of having machines assist his breathing. While tubes gave the child intravenous medications and nutrients, Giacomo struggled to retain his sanity from the sense of helplessness.

Being a medical doctor in the genesis of his career, he had seen decapitations, amputations, and disfigurements that only the most horrid, twisted minds of the world would dare imagine. Children however, were another matter. While he could view a field of corpses without so much as a wince, innocents always left a mark on his memory. It was the sight of incapacitated children that fueled his passion for biotechnology.

"Joaquin Solomon," Lorenzo said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Giacomo answered.

"Joaquin Solomon; it's his name."

"Hmm," Giacomo grunted in response while Lorenzo pretended to ignore it.

"He was injured in a boating accident with his parents, both deceased, happened a week ago. His father, Jason Solomon, was an up and coming industrialist. His mother, Carmen Villanueva, was a model beginning an acting career. Having no other relations by both parents, this boy is an official orphan."

Giacomo stood in silence as Lorenzo continued his report, "Over eighty percent of his skeletal structure is either broken or shattered. Though it would appear nature has a sense of humor. His cranium, skull, and vertebrae remain fully intact."

"What are you doing there?!" Giacomo said breaking his silence for the first time.

"His EEG is constantly rapid even under heavy sedation. Like that _man_ over there said, his spinal cord is still functioning as is his CNS. He feels everything. We give him boosters of morphine and Demerol, but from the readout we can see all its doing is making the pain tolerable."

The nurse wiped away a tear before placing the needle in the I.V., "Life's cruel isn't it? I can't even imagine being in that kind of pain." After injecting the contents of the syringe, the nurse quickly left without another word.

"Here's the worst part doctor. Due to the heavy medication, his muscles are already atrophied. His tendons and ligaments aren't far behind. Even _if_ this boy survives, I'm afraid he will most likely be a quadriplegic."

"This is the test subject?" Giacomo asked.

"Yes," Lorenzo answered. "What better way to start then from the ground up, fortunate for us we've already reported him dead. He'll be easy to dispose of should something go wrong or after testing is complete.

Giacomo stood silent, staring at Lorenzo. He couldn't see how they could keep anyone alive only to be disposed of later. Giacomo began to breathe hard as all the ways he'd like to strangle Lorenzo surfaced in his mind.

"Should you refuse Dr. Gianncomo," Ferro started, "he'll be terminated now. We chose him because he's an official ghost making for fewer cleanups. There's no sense in keeping him around if he'll be of no use."

"Well said Ferro. So Dr. Gianncomo, what is your decision? We need your answer now."

Giacomo continued to stand silent staring at the ceiling, a wall, the floor; anything to avoid looking at Lorenzo or the child. Minutes passed, but nobody seemed to notice. Giacomo's mind kept turning in knots as his ambitions, morals, and ethics; all collided upon one another. No human should be a tool, even if their life was at stake.

On the other hand, the boy would live, his dream realized, but in the long run the boy would be terminated anyway.

'Give me liberty or give me death, a great man said once', Dr. Gianncomo thought. 'But this isn't life or death. Is this what it means to be in _limbo_?'

During this time, Lorenzo and Ferro looked at each other occasionally. They each became irritated with the passing minutes; finally Lorenzo turned his back to Giacomo.

"Well, that's that. Ferro?"

"Yes, sir."

Ferro went to child's bedside pulling a bottle and a syringe from her coat pocket.

"Potassium cyanide, "Lorenzo muttered, "If the boy _really _is feeling pain, he won't be soon enough."

Ferro then drove the needle into the bottle, filling the syringe with the deadly poison. Giacomo's body felt like such a heavy burden. Feeling not the strength to blink, his eyes could not leave Ferro and the syringe. Time slowed as Ferro pressed her thumb to the boy's wrist, a vein jumping in response.

"Wait!!" Giacomo yelled. "Wait, I…I'll do it. I accept your offer."

With that Lorenzo waved to Ferro signaling her to cease. Ferro did as commanded disposing of the syringe in the biohazard bin while Dr. Gianncomo let his body slide to the floor.

* * *

Four months had passed since Dr. Gianncomo accepted the offer from SISDE. He had worked tirelessly since then. After three months since his acceptance, Giacomo and his team finally had something to show for their effort.

Using a protein based stem cell modified with carbon fiber infusion; Dr. Gianncomo was able to repair most of Joaquin's skeleton. He even succeeded in regrowing the missing parts of his rib cage. The next task involved repairing or replacing the muscle tissue that had been rendered useless.

As it turned out, this particular project ended up being a joint venture between the Italian military, SISDE, and the NOCS. Everybody had something to gain whether it was effective super-soldiers, reliable limb-replacement, or efficient assassins.

Giacomo had also been assigned a small group of assistants, a drove of green medical graduates led by a Dr. Ricardo Bianchi. Despite his vast interest in human modification, Giacomo didn't know what to make of him. Bianchi was dedicated to his work and brilliant in his own right, but always made sure to socialize with the higher-ups, Giacomo Lorenzo in particular. Due to this, Dr. Gianncomo was sure that Bianchi would take credit for whatever came out of the lab, but it never came to pass.

Giacomo was having trouble using the same carbon fiber infusion method to repair the muscle tissue, but a unique reaction had occurred soon after the bone infusion was complete. The ligaments and tendons began to assimilate the carbon fiber characteristics of the bone. The reaction stopped there however. It halted the muscle deterioration, but failed to repair it.

Back at the drawing board, Giacomo had put aside carbon fiber and was running through his mind a list of which material to experiment with next. Like muscle, the material had to be able to repeatedly expand and constrict and take repeated abuse from external forces. Flexibility was also a requirement, the most important one. It was this very requirement that made the most likely candidates obsolete.

Viewing his notes, two final materials remained possibilities; NOMEX fiber and surgical Rayon. Both suitable materials, but where one was durable the other was flexible. Tired and frustrated, Giacomo turned from his research letting out a great yawn. He paced around the lab to stretch his legs until he came to a conclusion; Giacomo needed a break

* * *

"Hi doctor, how are you doing?" a smiling mess of dark hair answered.

"Miserable, absolutely miserable," Giacomo answered. "And you?"

"Better, I can move my arms a little more today. I still have trouble holding things though."

"When _are_ they going to cut your hair? It looks like a weed."

"Oh, I've told them not to. Not until I can walk and climb into the chair myself."

Giacomo smiled at this response.

The skeletal repair had reduced his pain significantly. So much the sedation was no longer needed. His current muscular state was a different matter altogether. Joaquin was able to sit up and retained limited use of his arms and hands, but little else. Giacomo dearly wanted to see this boy run again. The sight of this boy in a hospital bed seemed out of place. Like the smell of liquor on a nun, it just didn't feel right.

"Doctor, are you going to tell me of your recent research?"

"So I've been found out, eh?" Giacomo nodded in approval.

Reading Joaquin's file, Giacomo discovered the boy had been completely home-schooled and had already been accelerated to college-level assignments with his old tutors. Often he would take a break to speak with Joaquin and often they would have a solution, so he told of his troubles in finding a suitable material. Giacomo spoke of deciding between NOMEX and rayon before Joaquin offered a solution so simple, it dumbfounded Giacomo.

"Why not create a new material altogether? You can use the molecular bases of both materials to start from and then adapt it to your current protein stem cell infusion therapy."

Giacomo leaned so far back in his chair he almost fell over. Getting up to leave, he turned remembering his manners just as his hand was on the door. Swiftly turning back, Giacomo found Joaquin smiling back at himself.

"So are you comfortable? Do you need anything?"

"Yes doctor and no."

"How are the repairs holding up?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Good, that's good."

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"You have work to do."

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

With that Giacomo burst out of the room nearly sprinting back to his lab. When the wait for the elevator took too long, Giacomo tore open the door to the stairwell and ran down them with great speed.

Upon arriving in his lab, Giacomo, on the spur of the moment told his assistants what he wanted. Many became unsure about the doctor's request. A few even voiced their discomfort.

"Dr. Gianncomo, how can we make a new organic material," said a slender young woman.

"We're not," Giacomo answered. "We are going to make a _poly-organic_. A material based on the organic properties of each base material. Then we're going to synthesize a method to attach or infuse it into human muscle."

"And exactly how are we supposed to do this?" another assistant spoke up; this one a man with blonde, curly hair.

Giacomo whipped his head around to the owner of the comment. After finding him, Giacomo spoke as he slowly stepped in the assistant's direction.

"_How are we supposed to do this? _Is that what you said? Do you forget why we're here? Do you not see what we're working on? A boy with a nearly shattered body is now able to move. Can you not imagine how many more we can help with this therapy?"

Giacomo was now in the assistant's face.

"We are here to repair that which is broken. To improve on what nature made crooked. If you can't see that, then I suggest you seriously consider your role here."

With that, Giacomo did an about-face and walked back to his desk. On his way, he saw Bianchi glaring at him with the strangest expression. Whether it was a grin or a smirk, Giacomo couldn't tell. It then came to mind that his assistants had changed somewhat. Giacomo no longer saw the eager, ambitious faces he had become accustomed to. Instead he saw arrogant, expectant youths favoring background.

'No matter,' Giacomo thought. 'I have _work_ to do.'


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Giacomo's misty eyes nearly overwhelmed him to the point of tears. To witness a sight of abundant life like no other.

'Lightning in a bottle,' Giacomo thought. 'So this is what it looks like.'

Giacomo looked over to his assistants who were taking notes and reading data from the machines in front of them.

'Fools,' he thought.

Giacomo's mind drifted back to the journey he and Joaquin took. During the two months putting Joaquin's theory into fabrication, Giacomo became increasingly impatient with his assistants. When he had a block, Giacomo went to discuss it with Joaquin. After all preliminary testing proved successful, Joaquin had his operation. A week of recovery followed by another week of physical therapy before the miracle was confirmed.

Joaquin got used to his new muscles very quickly, but a few unexpected side effects arose. Joaquin's reflexes became nearly superhuman and his limbs would spasm on occasion. It was the child himself who chalked it up to simply 'getting used to his new parts' and indeed he had. Joaquin was running up and down hills playing with two dogs provided by the NOCS. He ran, he leaped, but impressed everybody when he ran up a tree before doing a back flip confusing the dogs. Judging by their wagging tails and exposed tongues, Giacomo knew they enjoyed this exercise. To put it into perspective, how often did trained dogs encounter someone who could keep up with them at full speed?

Regardless, Giacomo stood still in awe and pride.

"Dr. Gianncomo," someone called to him from behind.

"Yes?' Giacomo answered as he turned toward the voice's owner.

"_Very _fine work," Lorenzo said extending his hand; a woman at his side.

"I'm very pleased myself."

"I _am_ curious however, as to what his effectiveness would be in the field."

"In the field…I'm sorry, _and you are_?"

"Ah," Lorenzo chided in, "Dr. Gianncomo I'd like you to meet Monica-Marie Petrice, vice-chairwoman in charge of SISDE's Special Projects Division."

"Chairwoman, what would an administrator from Rome be doing in Benevento?" Giacomo stood stunned.

"Yes," Lorenzo began again. "Chairwoman Petrice has recently informed me that we are to be assimilated by SISDE and made into a separate branch of our own, eventually."

Giacomo became irritated; the more he heard, the more he feared the worst. He wondered why these political types constantly dodged questions.

"We'll talk later," Lorenzo said before leaving with the chairwoman.

Giacomo turned toward the field, this boy who was the recipient of his creations would soon lose his innocence.

'This child will enter the battlefield,' Giacomo thought, 'in one form or another. _No_, don't think of such things. Give yourself today, remember him as a child.'

Giacomo sat on the grass below, gazing at the boy's youthful exuberance. Wiping away a tear, he wondered when he would see such a sight again.

* * *

"Hey, Marco," an NOCS officer whispered.

"Oh; hey Sergio," Marco whispered back.

"We had specific orders from SISDE to wait until called to retrieve the dogs. If they see you…_us _here the entire office will be in big trouble."

"Just wanted to see what Sergei and Fiona were being used for."

"What is it to us? They're just dogs, now come on."

"They seem to be interested in that boy. I wonder why?"

"Marco! If you don't come back to the truck _now,_ I'm reporting you."

"Fine, fine."

* * *

Back at the research building, Giacomo sat before Lorenzo in silent defiance.

"You understand, don't you Doctor?" Lorenzo uttered. "There was no other way."

Giacomo let Lorenzo's words role off him like beads of sweat on a humid day.

"We've steadily been losing funding. The only way to survive was to align ourselves with a government branch. The NOCS backed out citing union issues, but said it would privately look into using the material to repair injuries and augment their animals. The military removed their approval after that fiasco with Reuters criticizing them for manufacturing _super-soldiers_. We had no choice Giacomo, don't you see? SISDE was the only government body willing to take us in."

Giacomo continued to sit statuesque, the only thoughts rolling through his mind regarded what would become of him, his staff, and especially; the boy he came to regard as his own.

"I do have good news," Lorenzo continued. "They wanted to give the director posts to some higher ups from Rome. I convinced them to give me the position of operations director and you development director. That only leaves the position of warehouse director."

"…Warehouse?" Giacomo inquired through clenched teeth.

"Well, since they will be more machine than human; why not treat them as property?"

'How could they," Giacomo thought. As the events of the day played in his head once more, the tumblers fell into place. At last, by locking away his logic; he opened himself to his blind spot. The anger that arose in him, burst forth as a flood. Looking up at Lorenzo, he abruptly stood up and walked toward the door.

"Giacomo? Dr. Gianncomo!!" Lorenzo called after him.

Answering with a gaze that invoked fear in Lorenzo; Giacomo spoke slowly, "We shall speak tomorrow night. I will either accept or refuse this commission at that time."

Leaving Lorenzo in shock, Giacomo turned and left the office.

* * *

It was a beautiful day beside Lake Mezzano. Giacomo had taken Joaquin out of the government research building citing environmental tests as a cause. Sitting on a stump, he enjoyed the scenery while Joaquin skipped rocks across the still water. This serene moment where the world seemed to stand still was truly priceless.

"Joaquin, please come here."  
"Yes, Professor?" the child said sitting beneath Giacomo.

Giving himself a minute to enjoy this subtle flattery; he continued, "There's a problem at the foundation. It's being taken over, appropriated as it were."

"By whom?"

"SISDE."

"Italian Intelligence?"

"Yes, correct."

"Well…that's okay; isn't it?"

Kneeling down from the stump, Giacomo put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Joaquin, listen to me. This new organization, they might make you do things…_immoral_ things."

"Like what?"

"They might have you kill people."

"Will they be bad people?"

"W…what!!"

"Will they be bad people?"

"Most likely, but child why even ask?"

"Giacomo, if I can deliver justice…I mean real, absolute justice… with my new body…than let me do it. I'll gladly kill…and die. As long as it means protecting you…"

"Joaquin…"

"Because…" Joaquin said lowering his head as tears freed themselves from his eyes. "Because you are all I have, Giacomo. The assistants sometimes tell me that my parents will be coming soon…but Giacomo, I was there. I remember everything."

Giacomo pulled the boy close to him in a single motion. Wrapping his arms around Joaquin, he attempted to shield this innocent from the world that betrayed him in so many ways. His own tears poured as he tightened his grip on the small boy, letting his neck rest atop the child's head.

'If this child shall take it upon himself to act as my guardian,' Giacomo thought. 'Then I shall be his in turn.' He stepped back and looked at the boy in front of him. Joaquin barely stood to his waist, living for only a quarter of his own life. In Giacomo's eyes however, this boy possessed more courage than he would find anywhere else.

"Joaquin, could you walk with me please?" Giacomo asked, Joaquin nodding in response.

Arriving at Giacomo's car, he quickly opened the trunk, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside were false identification cards, passports, birth certificates, multiple outfits, and camping supplies. All things necessary in order to escape, vanish, and start anew.

"Doctor, what is this?" Joaquin asked.

"I was thinking of running away with you," Giacomo smiled. "If you refused, I was going to persuade you. After your speech, I believe we'll no longer need the forged papers. Why don't we stay here a week while things get ironed out back at the foundation?"

Joaquin nodded back eagerly sporting his wide smile.

"I have to head back to the city; I should be back by tonight. Will you please set up camp?"

"Mm-hmm, I'll put the poles in the water now. Then we can eat when you come back, Doctor."

"Joaquin!" Giacomo said with great gravity. "You are no longer allowed to call me doctor or mister. From now until forever, you will call me Giacomo. Understand?"

Joaquin stood at attention; smiling wide, "Yes sir, Giacomo sir."

After a moment they both shared a laugh at the irony of the joke.

"I'll be back," Giacomo stated before climbing into his Lancia Delta Integrale.

"Okay Giacomo. See you soon."

To Giacomo, the drive back seemed like a ride on the clouds. Corners smoothed themselves as if for him alone letting euphoria filled his entire being.

'So this is what it is to be a father,' Giacomo thought. 'A product of my own mind and after my own heart; a son."

* * *

Giacomo walked into Lorenzo's quarters long enough to tell him that he accepted the commission and that he'd be out of reach for a week. Upon returning to Lake Mezzano, he was treated to the sight of a roaring campfire. Even more so, the smell of Joaquin's cooked meal.

"Giacomo! Giacomo!" Joaquin cheered waving his arms in the air. "You just in time, the beans are ready and the fish is almost done."

"Isn't the traditional meal fish and _chips_?" Giacomo laughed at the odd combination.

"Yes, but all you packed was beans and canned meat spread. How long did you think we'd last?"

"Long enough to get out of the country."

"We wouldn't have lasted very long after that."

"Touché."

"Come and sit, Giacomo. I found some flat rocks we can rest on."

Giacomo smiled walking to where Joaquin pointed. He sat and ate as Joaquin recounted his fishing excursion, laughing at certain points. After finishing, Giacomo offered to wash the metal camping plates when Joaquin suggested a search for more firewood. It was while Giacomo was rinsing off the second plate when a sudden insight grasped him, those rocks weren't there before he left.

Joaquin had already returned to the campsite when Giacomo began his assent up the lake shore. Upon arriving, he found Joaquin placing some rocks on the southern end of the fire.

"What's that you have there?" Giacomo asked.

"There's a slight breeze coming from the south," Joaquin answered. "This will keep the fire lit and prevent any embers from being blown onto the grass."

"I never felt any wind."

"I did."

Joaquin hung his head for a moment before looking up at Giacomo with a solemn expression, "Giacomo, there's been something I've wanted to ask you."

"How funny, there's something I want to ask you as well."

"Okay, you first."

"Well, I noticed these rocks weren't here before. How did they get here?"

"I moved them."

"Moved them?"

"Yeah," Joaquin said before putting his arms around one of the flat boulders and lifting it with relative ease. "See?"

"Yes, I do," Giacomo answered with wide eyes. The boulder, however small, had to weigh at least twice as much as little Joaquin.

"Giacomo?" Joaquin asked as he put the boulder down. "What's happening to me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please don't be mad. I love my new body and I appreciate everything you and everybody have done already."

"But?"

"But…something feels strange. I was a used to being athletic with my old parts, but I think these work _too _good."

"Please, explain."

"Umm, I'm a lot stronger than before. I can also run faster and jump higher."

"Well, your muscles and bones are techno-organic as opposed to bio-organic. In essence, you could say your part man-part machine; a _cyborg_, if you will."

"I understand that, but did you do anything to…my head?"

"Nothing at all, your skull and spine were perfectly intact. There was no reason to modify it. Why do you ask?"

"Well…it's just that…everything works funny now."

"What do you mean?"

"When I see something, I can see it for a mile before it comes close. When I hear something, I hear it when nobody else does. Things outside the wall, conversations, even the wind. I can also see faster.

"See…_faster_?"

"When we stopped at a train crossing, the train looked like it was going so slow I could count the cars, but it was gone in only a minute."

"And how many cars were there?"

"Thirty-eight."

"Really…"

"Giacomo, what's happening to me?"

"I'm not sure, son. But it's nothing to worry about. We probably built you better than I'd thought."

Joaquin smiled and thanked Giacomo before turning in for the night. Later, Giacomo lay next to Joaquin inside the tent; he gazed upon the innocent image before him snuggled underneath a thick sleeping bag. Lying in his own sleeping bag, he smiled watching the little body rise and descend with his breath.

'What a wondrous child you've become,' Giacomo thought brushing a strand of hair out of Joaquin's face. 'Your body enabled you to do things your mind hadn't anticipated. In response, your brain reacted therefore improving your senses and thought capacity. That can be the only explanation.'

Giacomo turned on his back, looking at the stars through the bug screen. 'A fusion of nature and humans own ability to harness it. My son, my ideal.'

Giacomo closed his eyes to dream of their future together.


	4. Chapter 4

**VI**

Arriving at the new foundation area was an experience. In a secluded area between Milan and Rome, SISDE had begun to erect a base of sorts. Joaquin endured weeks of physical and mental evaluations while SISDE awaited approval for the area. When the approval finally came, Giacomo and Joaquin were among the first caravan of vehicles headed for the new site.

"A new place."

Joaquin was very vocal on the area and pointed out certain things to Giacomo. First is that the area was nearly in seclusion. With hills in three directions and the remnants of a forest along its banks, the road they were on was the only way in and out. Concurring with Joaquin's assessment, Giacomo added that the current usable space was little more than five square miles.

"A new home."

Approaching the entryway, SISDE wasted no time in establishing this new compound as a _charitable_ venture by the Italian Government. A great sign reading 'Chrysalis Foundation' arced over the entrants in an ever imposing manner.

"A new beginning."

Walking through the initial courtyard; a five story office building was in the center. A small housing complex for staff and the beginnings of a training yard were also apparent. Various pits were also being dug, no doubt basements for future buildings. Giacomo and Joaquin took in the scenery with confident indifference.

* * *

"Giacomo, Joaquin, welcome." Lorenzo greeted them as they entered his office. "I hope the ride wasn't harsh, I know how these Italian back roads can be."

Giacomo shrugged, "If you want some excitement, you should drive around Switzerland. Cobblestones and gravel can certainly raise the blood pressure."

Joaquin held from giggling as the humor of the comment seemed to be lost on Lorenzo.

"Ah, Switzerland. Your alma mater, no?"

Joaquin lowered his head attempting to retain what remained of his self control. The discipline required was sheer torture. An elbow from Giacomo aided in his control and soon the stoic expression returned to Joaquin's face.

"Never mind," Giacomo said. "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, of course. Please sit."

"As you know, we are now under the employ of SISDE until a semi-sovereign designation can be created. Until such time, we are to be as a branch unit."

"As in…?" Giacomo interrupted

"As in reconnaissance, espionage, and the like."

"Of bad people?" Joaquin chided in.

"Yes. I myself have been with SISDE nearly a decade. Things tend to go smoother when innocents are left out of the equation. Now Giacomo, we have a lab set for you below. Until this facility is finished, you'll have to wait on your assistants. I've arranged for Ricardo Bianchi and Dr. Gilliani to assist you in the meantime."

"They'll do," Giacomo responded.

"Joaquin, you will be our field agent. We have a man coming from the Carabinieri in the north to train you."

"In what?" Joaquin asked.

"Fighting, shooting, stealth; that sort of thing."

"Oh, like a spy?"

"Something to that extent, only you'll have to be a more covert operative."

"I see."

"Now, he doesn't have much instructing experience. So if he seems a bit overzealous, please be patient."

"Okay."

"Now the fun doesn't begin until tomorrow. You two have the day off. There are two agents waiting outside to show you to your respective quarters."

"We won't be living together?" Giacomo protested.

"Forgive me doctor," Lorenzo started, "but as of now you are administration and the boy is staff. We are a branch of SISDE now. The agents and the interior only speak to each other when necessary."

"But…" Giacomo objected until Joaquin pulled his shirt sleeve.

"It's okay Giacomo. I'm sure we'll get time off, right Director?"

"Yes, of course. How did you know of my new title?"

"It was on the door," Joaquin smiled wide.

* * *

Giacomo and Joaquin spent a good portion of the day unpacking in their separate quarters. Giacomo unpacked huge stacks of files from one suitcase and a laptop computer with a few external hard drives from another. He had left his personal effects in his suite, thinking it better to set up his new lab first.

Joaquin was amazed at the subtle coziness of his room. While the administration had hotel-like accommodations, the staff was grouped together in a single floor dormitory that looked like the wing of an apartment complex. Joaquin liked the simplicity of the room containing only items of bare necessity. A dresser, table with chair, and full-size bed were its only furnishing. The bathroom was simple as well, but Joaquin felt annoyed by the small window.

'Kind of defeats the purpose doesn't it?' Joaquin thought. 'Maybe that's why there's a huge front window, to overcompensate.'

Walking to the bed, he leaped onto it and began jumping up and down testing the durability of the mattress. When his head became light, Joaquin flattened his body, landing on the bed facing the ceiling. Looking out of the big window beside his bed a new thought emerged from his mind.

'Home.'

Jumping up from his bed, Joaquin ran outside to give himself a tour of his new home.

* * *

"So, what do you think of your quarters?" Joaquin asked.

"It's okay, a bit big for my tastes," Giacomo answered.

Giacomo had stepped outside of the main building for some fresh air. He was greeted upon arriving by the sight of Joaquin running around the courtyard. After calling to him, they sat down on the bare grass talking casually.

"You?" Giacomo asked.

"I like it. It's small, simple, and cozy."

"Humph, maybe they'll let me move."

"_Doubtful_, Lorenzo seems pretty adamant about separating the staff and the superiors."  
"True."

"Besides, I'd imagine you would've already set up a cot in your new lab."

Giacomo smiled wide before answering, "It's on requisition."

Joaquin steadily giggled before laughing outright. Giacomo joined him midway and soon they were both engaged in boisterous amusement. After a time, they both regained their breath enough to continue conversation.

"Did Lorenzo seem different to you?" Joaquin asked.

"Yes, he did. It looked like he was trying to force hospitality out of himself. Even though we are assigned a government branch, I think this is still a side project. The ground can still come out from beneath us at _any_ time."

"So, the two of us are either his ticket to success or his path to ruin."

"Precisely."

"I'm hungry, let's go to the cafeteria. I'll make some dinner."

"You know how to cook? I mean, actually cook and not camp out?"

"Yeah, who doesn't?"

"…"

"Oh…sorry, Giacomo."

"Very well then, _bambino_. Show me your skills."

* * *

"Wow, Joaquin. This is really good. Where did you learn to cook?"

"My mother taught me. She said it was an invaluable life skill; better to choose your wife than be forced into one by necessity."

"It sounds like she was a wise woman."

Joaquin returned to his plate, "She taught me lots of other things too. When I tore a shirt or ripped a pair of pants, she taught me how to patch them because I had broken them. My father had the same attitude, except he had me fix things I broke around the house. _Work with your hands and the value of whatever they touch will become priceless._ That was something he always told me."

"I would've liked to meet your parents."

"I think they would've liked you too."

Sharing a smile, Giacomo and Joaquin returned to their plates and finished their meals in silence.

Outside of the cafeteria, they said their goodbye's and goodnight's before going their separate ways.

* * *

Joaquin did not know how long he'd slept before waking, but he knew his hands and feet were bound and his mouth covered by an unfamiliar hand. When Joaquin struggled, the hand clamped down tighter. The hand's owner leaned forward, revealing his face in the faint light coming through the window. His azure eyes held Joaquin's like icy blue steel. The stranger's mouth held straight revealing a cold ruthlessness.

Joaquin was very much afraid.

"Foolish boy," the stranger spoke. "To leave your door unlocked at night. I can do whatever I wish with you as you are _my _captive. I can kill you quickly without pain or I can take my time with your agony. I could cut out your insides or maybe those big green eyes. Then again, maybe I should sever your fingers one…by…one."

Brandishing a Stiletto army blade, the stranger held it before Joaquin's eyes. The luster of the bright edge inspired tears to fall from those very eyes. The cold stranger smirked at this suppressing a laugh.

"You see, with this blade…I am as a god. I control whether you live to see the sun or never see it again. Did you know it takes less than a gram of pressure to pierce human flesh?"

With this, the stranger pressed the tip of his blade into Joaquin's left temple releasing a small trickle of blood. Joaquin's tears turned to sobs as his thoughts dwelled on Giacomo and what became of him. The tip of the blade turned to his small torso. Joaquin closed his eyes in impending doom.

In a flash, the hand across his mouth lifted and his limbs were free. His bonds lay cut on the bed. Joaquin scurried to the corner of the bed with his back to the window. After putting his knife away, the stranger leaned forward leveling his eyes with Joaquin's.

"Let's get this out of the way," the stranger spoke again. "_I…don't…like…you_. I can't understand why battle-tested veterans, like me, would be overlooked in place of _toy soldiers_. Regardless, I am to train you in combat. I will overlook everything about your age and stature. My name is _Jean Croce_, _remember_ it. Training begins at o-six-hundred. Get some sleep, if you can."

Jean swiftly walked to the door, slamming it on his way out. Joaquin stared at that door for eight long minutes. Gazing at the marks on his wrists and ankles, he completely ignored the blood streaming from his temple. The events replayed in his mind as Joaquin took the fetal position. Tears escaped from his eyes once more as he lay still in that form until daybreak.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Giacomo stood in Lorenzo's office, glaring at him sitting without expression. Giacomo hadn't seen Joaquin all day and when he finally did, the sight angered him. Joaquin wore a swollen lip, a limp, and was cradling his left arm. Without approaching the boy to ask what may have occurred, Giacomo stormed to Lorenzo's office. After describing the sight, Giacomo fumed over not being consulted on Joaquin's new instructor. Lorenzo remained seated and silent

"Have a seat, please," Lorenzo said at last. Giacomo took the seat remaining furious. "Dr. Gianncomo, your services are invaluable to this project. However, if I may remind you, those services don't extend to caretaker of the agents or any agent in particular. Your position is within the Department of Scientific Research and Development as supervisor. Joaquin is now the responsibility of the supervisor to the agents, who has yet to be determined. In short doctor, Joaquin is no longer your concern.

Giacomo's eyes grew after Lorenzo finished his sermon. Lorenzo had addressed him like he would a dog. He even referred to Joaquin as property. Not being able to withstand Lorenzo's blank stare, Giacomo upset his chair storming out of the room.

Once outside of the administration building, Giacomo forced a sigh. Walking around the complex without any general direction, his thoughts began to wander.

'Maybe I really am a dog,' Giacomo thought. 'Maybe to realize our dreams at the level we wish, we all eventually sell our souls.'

Stopping to look at a row of trees; Giacomo spoke quietly, "Is this what Oppenheimer felt? When that which he was convinced to build was finally revealed to him. Did he harbor this ugly, repulsive emotion of regret?"

In the distance, he noticed Joaquin rubbing his wrist while sitting on a patch of grass. Giacomo walked in his direction smiling softly.

* * *

Joaquin looked over his shoulder with a start. Breathing a sigh of relief, he half expected it to be Jean. As Giacomo continued his approach, Joaquin turned his attention back to his wrist.

"So _bambino_, what have you got there?" Giacomo asked with cheer in his voice.

"Ointment," Joaquin replied.

"Ointment? What on earth for?"

"My wrist," Joaquin answered revealing his purpled lower limb.

Giacomo refrained from saying or doing anything as Joaquin continued.

"Everything else healed really fast, but the infirmary nurse said this might take some time. She gave me this ointment to help it heal and to relieve the swelling in case it doesn't heal by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, Jean called off training for today after my wrist began popping loud enough for others to hear. He said injured or not, training would resume tomorrow. The nurse had a lot of great things to say about my parts, doctor. Doctor?"

Giacomo stood as a statue looking into the sky so not to let Joaquin see his expression. The formulae and possible situations worked themselves over in Giacomo's mind. The enraged gaze he placed upon the heavens would've turned away the almighty himself.

Jean had sprained the child's wrist at first. No doubt the boy tried to protect that arm after such injury. Seeing this, Jean continued to harm that portion of his body pushing it past its stress limit until the noise associated with severe tendon and ligament damage became clear. Had Giacomo's wares not been what they were, he was confident that his _bambino_ would have the use of that hand no longer.

"Doctor? Giacomo?!" Joaquin said with increasing worry.

"Oh, sorry Joaquin. Just lost in the clouds."

"Hmm," Joaquin smiled. "They are pretty today."

Standing in silence for nearly an hour, both of them gazed longingly at the sky. Giacomo braved a glance to the boy and enjoyed watching the child smile.

"You know, Joaquin," Giacomo began, "we can still leave. We can go where none of them will find us."

"Giacomo, we've been over this already. Only now we're in too deep. If we leave they'll hunt us down. We'll be constantly running. We'll have no peace."

"I know, I know. It's just that I can't stand what that…_man_ is doing."

"Jean? Yeah, I don't like him either. In this situation there's only one course of action to take. I have to get better than him."

"What?"

"I have to get better. If I'm right than this agency isn't any different than other government agencies around the world. When they don't have anymore use for something or someone they discard it. That's the only way Giacomo."

"But…"

"Leave it to me. This is one game I have to play alone."

"Alright, I just hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

Slowly at first, but as the weeks went by Joaquin proved to be the immediate study he'd always been. Jean resented this greatly and began to play dirty. Using every dirty tactic in the book as well as some that weren't, Jean once again gained an advantage on Joaquin. The advantage however was short-lived as Joaquin adapted to those techniques quickly. Eventually, day after day, Jean would be thoroughly humiliated.

Six months passed since Joaquin made it his sole conviction to best Jean in every aspect of his training. Unarmed combat, marksmanship, stealth tactics, battle awareness, improvisation; all mastered to a level Jean could never achieve. A fact that Jean was only too eager to refute. In that time, Joaquin's progress hadn't been overlooked by Lorenzo. After comparing Joaquin's progress to Jean's effort and conduct, Lorenzo thought a change was in order.

* * *

Jean stood at attention in Lorenzo's office making every attempt not to wince from the fresh shiner Joaquin had given him that morning. Lorenzo smirked at his behavior before speaking.

"This isn't the military Jean, at ease."

"Thank you, sir," Jean said relaxing a bit.

"Fine, we'll keep that."

"….."

"That's some mark the child gave you."

"His strength and speed seem to be abnormal, sir. I requested access to his technical data, but Dr. Gianncomo continues to refuse me those files."

"As he would've been reprimanded had he permitted such. Administration personnel are the only ones allowed access to the restricted archives."

"I see."

"But you may get your wish sooner than you think."

"Sir?"

"As of midnight, you are no longer the child's instructor."

"_What_?! But, sir?!"

"I've requested a discharge of your military service. You are to be transferred as an employee of SISDE. I am appointing you Administrator in charge of selection and supervisor to the agents."

"Sir…," Jean said frantically trying to process all of this new information.

"I've been pleased with your work thus far, but what we need is a working unit. Frankly, your accord with the boy could jeopardize that."

This last comment struck a chord with Jean as his attention shifted.

"Sir, it was my impression that we were training specialists, not babysitting."

"Yes, Jean. That is true, but you know better than I that a unit functions better in the field when it functions as a family off of it."

Jean stood in silence weighing his actions and methods in his mind. In the end he affirmed that he had done what was right.

"We also have new agents joining us soon," Lorenzo said interrupting Jean's train of thought.

"New…agents?" Jean asked with a puzzled expression.

"No, no, no. Not _those_ kinds. The Doctor and his staff have yet to perfect fabrication in order to streamline the procedure. These are ours so to speak. Antonio Besucci from the NOCS; Olga Arganouva from Interpol and formerly of the KGB, and Mauricio Angelo from SISDE; they are our first genuine operatives.

"Are you recruiting the best or scraping the barrel?" Jean asked accusingly. Lorenzo went on as if Jean never spoke.

"For the time being we will at the disposal of SISDE, the military, and the government at large. At least until our own branch with SISDE is secured. When the boy and his new partner are battle-tested and approved, they will be our field unit. These three will be a clean-up crew of sorts. You, Jean, will be commander in charge of deployment."

"Yes, sir."

"A lot to take in isn't it?"

"Yes, sir it is."

"Don't worry, you'll have time to soak it in and iron out any questions. Tomorrow you're going to SISDE headquarters in Rome for the remainder of the week. There you will be briefed on the full details of your new position. While you're there, I want you to get some clothes of a more…_professional_ manner. Go ahead and bill them to the department."

"Yes, sir," Jean said wearing a satisfied grin. "And the boy?"

"He meets his new partner this evening. Today will be his unofficial day off. Anything else?"

"No sir, nothing else."

"Very well, dismissed."

* * *

Joaquin stood in the gymnasium, eyes closed. His own soft breath was the only sound against the proud silence. Opening his eyes, a dense focus was about them. Strike after strike landed on the inanimate object before him. The sound of flesh meeting iron resonated throughout the gym. From one side to the other, an iron post swung suspended by heavy chain. Joaquin had gone through so many bags that after he tore apart his seventh fifty kilogram punching bag, Lorenzo thought it less expensive to use hollow-core iron posts made from surplus scrap. Although the post had many dents, it had yet to break or bend.

Giacomo stood in the doorway astonished by the awesome abilities of his creation, his son. No matter what, Joaquin never failed to impress him. Joaquin delivered a leaping heel kick to the post sending it almost parallel with the floor. Still in mid-air, Joaquin stuck out his other foot as the pole returned. Tapping it with his sole, he stopped the pole from swinging out of control. After landing safely on the ground, Joaquin took a few deep breaths, turned around he smiled brightly at Giacomo.

"Hi, Giacomo," Joaquin smiled.

"Oh, hello Joaquin," Giacomo said in turn. "You seem pleased with yourself today."

"Have you seen Jean lately?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Take a long look when you do."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing mu--ch."

"I have some news for you. Do you want the good or the bad first?"

"I'll leave it up to you."

"Very well, your plan worked. Jean is no longer your instructor."

"Okay, so what's the bad news?"

"Hmm," Giacomo shook his head. "It didn't work completely. They found a new use for him."

"As?"

"He is to be your and your new partner's superior."

"Partner? It sounds like fun."

"Only you…"

"No, really. I got a hold of a SISDE protocol manual. It states that a superior is under no circumstance to initiate or instigate the use of physical force on an operative under their command."

"What does it say about instructors and cadets?"

"To use any means at the discretion of the instructor to effectively and efficiently train the student."

"It seems like you've done your homework."

"Ehh," Joaquin shrugged. "I knocked out Jean early one morning and got bored."

Giacomo laughed with all his might at the last remark. The image of Jean sprawled on the floor before a preteen embellishing his imagination.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

Jean wore a wide grin leaving the infirmary; a cold-compress reduced the swelling on his eye. Things had appeared to be finally looking up. He had never gotten much recognition in the Army, not even as Carabinieri. His success would be a private one, but a success nonetheless.

Stepping lightly back to his quarters, he noticed a woman sitting on a patch of grass in the courtyard. Her legs spread out in front of her and covered in black slacks, one leg resting atop the other. The arms supporting her from behind with her palms flat on the ground. The slender arms of this woman lay bare as her torso was covered by an ornate vast.

'NATO?' Jean thought noticing her vest and the cap that lay beside her.

Jean continued to detail her with his mind, his eyes unable to leave her. This woman's hair was short and would be cropped if not for the two braided pigtails hanging behind her neck. Her skin wasn't light yet not quite dark. However, her facial expression intrigued him the most. Her features hinted at being Indian, yet not fully so.

'Where have a seen such an expression before?' Jean thought.

Just then she turned away from the sky and glared at Jean.

'Had she noticed all along?' Jean nervously thought.

"It's rude to stare, you know," she said in perfect Italian, but with a British accent. Her soft, sweet voice nearly paralyzed Jean.

"I…I…I apologize," Jean managed. "Please, forgive my rudeness."

"You're forgiven, so long as you introduce yourself," she said moving her arms from back to front bringing them together. Walking closer to her; Jean felt her wide, violet eyes piercing his very soul. Her dark brown tresses flirted with him, brushing her cheek in the slight breeze.

"Y…yes, of course. I'm Jean Croce."

"Very well, Jean Croce; I am Nyromi Lautani."

"That's an interesting name," Jean said while sitting. "Greek?"

"Close, Roma."

"I'm sorry, Roma?"

"You probably would know us as Gypsies."

"Oh…really."

"Yes, really," Nyromi said letting out a single giggle.

After a few moments, he noticed that she was staring up at him.

"Is something wrong?" Jean asked.

"I'm just wondering why you haven't sat down."

"Oh, sorry."

Jean sat beside Nyromi with his feet tucked underneath him. Jean looked to his hands as he began to nervously play with his thumbs.

"So, do you like being in NATO?" Jean asked.

"Yes, I do. It gives me a chance to see so many places and people."

Jean went silent again, thoughts running through his head like dancing fireflies. After a few moments, Jean grudgingly dismissed them, reminding himself not to get _too _far ahead.

"That's some mark you have there," Nyromi said breaking the silence.

"Oh, this?" Jean answered. "It's nothing, I assure you. It was much worse earlier."

Nyromi leaned close to Jean so that her bangs brushed his cheek ever so lightly. She leaned her head to one side and then the other, Jean resisting leaning closer with all his will.

"How did that happen?" Nyromi asked; finally leaning back.

"I was brought here as an instructor," Jean answered taking a deep breath. My…_student_ has proven himself a fast learner and a capable one at that."

"Hmm…looks like I have my work cut out for me."

"I'm sorry, but…_excuse me_?"

"I've been sent here on assignment. The request stated a need for a covert partner to a recruit. The only information mentioned is that he is green, yet very exceptional."

"Did they happen to mention anything else?"

"Only that he was young."

Young, exceptional; those would be understatements," Jean muttered under his breath.

"Can you tell me anything?" Nyromi asked

"Nothing you'd believe. I think it'll be better if you see for yourself."

Nyromi stared back at Jean, craning her neck to one side. After a few minutes, she hopped to her feet in one fluid motion.

"Okay, I'll be off then."

Brushing off her uniform, Nyromi did the same for her cap before placing it atop her head.

After standing up himself, Jean gazed at the mysterious woman walking away.

'What just happened?' Jean thought; the sight of the young woman lingering in his head.

* * *

Looking out of the upper floor window Nyromi couldn't help admiring the myriad of blues, yellows, and reds streaking across the sky as it fell from evening to night.

'This certainly isn't London,' Nyromi thought.

"Miss Lautani, the director will see you now."

"Oh, thank you," Nyromi said; a bit of disappointment in her voice as her serenity was interrupted.

Her confidence returned in an instant when she marched into Lorenzo's office.

Clicking her heels together, she saluted Director Lorenzo, "Lieutenant Nyromi Lautani, reporting for assignment, sir."

Lorenzo remained seated behind his desk, smiling at Nyromi.

"Miss Lautani, as I have told four others today; this is not the military. Nor does this particular installation operate in such a fashion. I tell you this for the first and last time, at ease. You need only to call me sir."

"Yes, sir," Nyromi said. A smile streaked across her face, glad to be in such an easygoing atmosphere.

"You have some impressive credentials," Lorenzo began again. "Highly trained in hand-to-hand combat, a recognized master in no less than twenty-seven disciplines by the WMAC, I even recognize a few obscure ones."

"Which ones would those be, sir."

"Capoeira, Kali, Hakyokusaken, and especially En; I wasn't aware that it had left the banned list. Wasn't a sanction placed on that discipline by the WMAC and the UN Security Council?"

"Banned, but not forgotten. I research and study anything that will make me more capable and efficient, especially if I encounter it in _the field_."

"Please, elaborate."

"Over two years ago, I encountered a hostile using a method of unarmed combat not unlike En. After _neutralizing_ the hostile, I required five days of bed rest with one week of light duty as ordered by the attending physician. During debriefing, I was surprised to discover that the hostile was Vietnamese and female. I partook of some research during my light duty and filed for a hiatus. After making a full recovery, I left _the isle_ for Southeastern Asia in search of an instructor."

"Mm-hmm," Lorenzo muttered after the lengthy explanation. He went back to Nyromi's dossier on his desk before continuing his interview of Nyromi. "You also have some impressive espionage and reconnaissance references. I see high recommendations from members of the American Special Forces and even our own Carabinieri."

Lorenzo gathered the files spread out across his desk and placed them neatly into his folder. Interlacing his fingers, he stared at Nyromi again.

"Lieutenant Lautani, you have all the qualifications and more that we're seeking. However, I have one important question for you."

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you like children?"

* * *

"Hi, Amber!" Joaquin said as he approached the receptionist's desk. The smile he presented to the young woman could've lit up the world.

"Well, aren't _you_ pleased with yourself today; I saw what you did to Jean. I must say it was nice work."

"Oh, it was nothing special," Joaquin blushed. "He attacked me and I defended myself, that's all."

"Maybe, but you can do what we can only dream about doing to that jerk."

Joaquin smiled at the remark amber made towards Jean. It was safe to say that Jean was ill received within the compound.

"So, what brings you here today?" Amber asked.

"Oh, Catrina called and said Lorenzo wanted to see me."

"Okay, let me call her and see if she's ready."

Amber picked up the receiver and glanced at Joaquin for a moment. The cloudy sunset had caught his attention and he was quietly admiring it. Amber smiled at the boy's innocence, hoping for a few more moments with the precious child.

"Go on, Joaquin, Catrina says _their ready for you_."  
"Okay," Joaquin answered. "Bye-bye Amber, it was nice talking to you."

"Same here," Amber got in before Joaquin sprinted up the stairs.

Amber let her face rest in her palm as she watched the door close slowly behind Joaquin. When the heavy door finally shut, Amber's head dropped to her folded arms.

'To have a child as precious,' Amber thought. 'I can only hope.'

* * *

"Why, yes I do like children," Nyromi answered. "Why would such a question be important?"

"You will see soon enough," Lorenzo answered before pressing a button on his desk. "Catrina, send in Mr. Solomon as soon as he arrives."

"Yes, director," Catrina answered.

"Mr. Solomon, sir?" Nyromi asked.

"Yes, before you accept _this_ commission; you should see your partner."

As the questions twisted and turned their way through Nyromi's mind, she wondered what her partner would be like.

* * *

Joaquin burst through the door to the stairwell and stopped in front of Catrina's desk.

"Aw, I missed my record by two second's."

Catrina looked with astonishment and wonder at the boy as he pouted looking at the wall clock.

"Uh…oh yeah, the Director's ready for you."

"Okay," Joaquin responded with a smile and a wave.

* * *

Nyromi looked to the door as it opened slowly. Her eyes widening when the light behind revealed a small silhouette. The hand turning the knob met the head at eye level. Nyromi's heart began to race in sync with her breath. Each one exaggerated, even blinking becoming an act of great effort.

'Is this my partner?' Nyromi thought. 'What trick is this?'


	7. Chapter 7

key:

"sp" –denotes spoken dialogue

'sp' –denotes thought dialogue

italics(_sp_)- denote expressed thought and speech

Nyromi (nee-ro-me)

**VII**

Lorenzo let the silence go through its motion. After closing the door behind him, Joaquin's eyes became transfixed on Nyromi and Nyromi's did the same.

----------

Joaquin had never seen such a woman before. The women in the compound had all been nice and hospitable, but had always treated him like a small child. He could hardly blame them, in their eyes he still was. His intelligence gave him so much more than what a mere child was capable of and this woman was unique from them all. The braids framing either side of her neck gave this woman an image of innocence, but she gave off a sense of confidence. A sub-conscious magnet that attracted people like him, to her; true, honest innocents.

----------

A child, a _small _child; stood in front of Nyromi. No word could voice her emotion.

'This can't be the Mr. Solomon that Director Lorenzo had summoned,' Nyromi thought. 'No, this has to be a test. Yes, a test of my mental adaptation to an inopportune situation. Nyromi steeled her resolve and regained her composure albeit with great effort.

----------

"Joaquin, I would like you to meet your new partner. This is Miss Nyromi Lautani."

Joaquin looked intently into Nyromi's eyes, his creamy jade meeting her vibrant violet. Smiling wide as he did before in front of Amber, he walked to her with his arm outstretched.

"Hello Miss Lautani. I'm Joaquin Solomon and I'm very pleased to meet you."

The smile, the words; all of it was sincere. Nyromi didn't know what to do or even think. Her military conditioning was pulling away at the seam.

"Lieutenant Nyromi Lautani, likewise," she said approaching Joaquin with the same gesture.

Joaquin took her hand and shook it vigorously, the wide smile never leaving his face. Nyromi became surprised at the boy's handshake; it was strong and firm yet surprisingly gentle. As if he was intentionally holding back. After letting go of each other, Nyromi shook with shock after remembering Jean Croce's words.

'_Nothing you'd believe. I think it'll be better if you see for yourself.'_

"So…you are my…_partner_?" Nyromi asked.

"I think so; …Lorenzo?"

Lorenzo leaned forward interlacing his fingers, "Yes, it is so. Miss Lautani, you are to be Joaquin's associate and instructor. You are to answer to Jean, who will then answer to me. Do you understand?"

"Y…yes, sir," Nyromi managed as reality bore down on her.

"…Joaquin?"

"Yes director, I understand."

"Very well; Miss Lautani is new here, Joaquin. Why don't you show her around?"

"As you wish; director."

Joaquin looked up at Nyromi taking her hand once again. His smile returned, somehow making Nyromi feel at ease.

"Come on," Joaquin said, "I'll show you where your room is."

Nyromi allowed the boy to lead her out of the office. The firm gentleness, the smile, and those piercing eyes; they were all features _he_ had. If this boy had brown hair and eyes, he would look just like _him_.

'No,' Nyromi thought. 'Is this why I was selected? It couldn't be.'

----------

Walking across the main courtyard, Nyromi watched in amazement at the young boy.

"You don't have to do that. It's quite heavy."

"Not really," Joaquin responded looking at the bag on his shoulder. "Besides, I'm bigger than your bag, if only by a little."

The child walked effortlessly, as if the bag's weight didn't affect him at all. Nyromi looked around the complex as Joaquin led her to the agent's quarters. It wasn't long before she noticed that nearly everyone they passed waved at Joaquin.

"You're pretty popular around here," Nyromi noted.

"Yeah, everyone is really nice," Joaquin said. After a quick smirk, he added, "Jean's training sessions don't last very long these days. In order to _kill time_; I help in the infirmary or the kitchen. Sometimes, I help the construction workers too."

Arriving at the agent's quarters, Joaquin looked up at Nyromi handing her duffel back.

"They're all open," Joaquin smiled, "except for the first two on the left.

"Who lives in those two?" Nyromi asked.

"I live in the far one and Jean lives in the one next to it, at least for now anyway."

"What do you mean, _at least for now_?"

"I heard about his promotion, Jean is administration now. They'll probably give him a suite in the main building soon."

"So, everybody is separated not by class or rank, but by purpose?"

"Uh-huh. Everyone has their place and duty here, but at the same time everyone knows that without placing any burdens or hardships on anyone else."

"Like a…paramilitary sort."

"I guess you can call it that."

"If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been here?"

"Hmm, I've been in the compound for at least six months, but it's been over a year since Giacomo fixed me."

"…_Fixed…you_?"

"Uh-huh."

"And how old are you now?"

"Twelve."

"…"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Joaquin stammered. "I…I shouldn't have said that! If you want to know more you'll have to ask Dr. Giacomo Gianncomo."

"I might just do that," Nyromi whispered to herself.

A mass of people began walking toward a single massive tent not far off. Guardsmen, construction workers, administrative assistants, and even a few _suits_ began joining the crowd.

"What's that all about?" Nyromi asked.

"What time is it?" Joaquin returned.

"…Ten till five," Nyromi answered checking her watch. "Why?"

"It's almost time for dinner."

Nyromi's stomach growled at the mention of food, causing her to blush in embarrassment. Joaquin laughed before saying, "Your belly thinks so too."

Nyromi smiled before quickly opening the door to the third room from the left, throwing her duffel inside, and then closing it abruptly.

"I'll race you," Nyromi said sprinting off.

"Hey, no fair!" Joaquin answered in pursuit.

----------

Nyromi spent the rest of the day with Joaquin. The boy's innocent demeanor and infectious laughter steeled her resolve into accepting the commission. That night, under the watchful eyes of the stars, Nyromi and Joaquin walked aimlessly around the compound. All subjects becoming common ground for conversation. Eventually; questions about Joaquin and this, Giacomo, were answered as well.

"Joaquin, if I may ask something?"

"Have I refused yet?" Joaquin smiled in turn.

"True; it's about Giacomo. Is he real? He seems too good to be."

"Yes, of course he's real. He works here in the compound.

"And, what does he do?"

"He's the Administrator of Scientific Research and Development."

"Really…?" Nyromi trailed off.

The night was still young; Nyromi pondered a method of meeting Dr. Gianncomo and getting him to answer some of her questions.

"Where does he operate Joaquin?" Nyromi asked.

"_Operate_?"

"…Works."

"Oh, in the Administration Building; his floor is second from the top."

"Hmm…you know Joaquin; dinner filled me up quite good. Would you like to turn in for the night?"

"Okay, Nyromi. I'm getting sleepy too."

Walking to the agent's quarters, Nyromi enjoyed the quiet closeness she was developing with the boy beside her. However, she began noticing that he was a bit uneasy. Joaquin kept looking away from her at nothing in particular, while rubbing his left shoulder. Putting her hand on his right shoulder, she stopped Joaquin and kneeled.

"Is something the matter?" Nyromi asked.

"W…well…" Joaquin stuttered. "It's…just that…"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to be leaving soon?"

The question and the sincerity of its owner caught Nyromi like a hit from a freight train. Joaquin's disturbed expression secured that resolution.

"Sweet, sweet boy; how can I ever leave you?"

Joaquin stared at his feet, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry; I didn't think that would upset you." Nyromi hurried, unsure of how to handle this situation.

"No, no, no!" Joaquin said looking up. Tears fell from his cheeks between gulps for air. "It…it makes me happy to here you say that."

Tears formed in Nyromi's eyes as she held Joaquin in a tight embrace. Joaquin's tears fell freely, but Nyromi held back hers.

'You look and act just like him," Nyromi thought. Breaking her hold on the boy, she stood up looking down at him. Joaquin returned her gaze with his wide, infectious smile.

"C'mon, let's go," Nyromi said holding her hand out. No longer shy of that hand, Joaquin nodded before taking it.

----------

"Good night, Nyromi," Joaquin said before slowly closing his door.

"Sleep well," Nyromi returned before heading for her room.

Upon entering, she found a small envelope next to the duffel sack on her bed. Striding toward the bed, she picked up the envelope to examine its contents. Inside was an identification badge doubling as a card-key, various information booklets and pamphlets, and tax information forms with a note attached. The note informed her to return them by tomorrow as acceptance of her commission.

Nyromi considered completing the forms then and there, but her attention was diverted to the card-key. The name of _Giacomo_ consistently resurfaced in her mind. Walking to the big window, Nyromi pulled the curtain aside. The main administration building could be seen in the distance and one solitary floor remained lit.

Holding the compound information manual, Nyromi thought, 'Why do all these places label their manuals; _So You've Decided..._, or _Welcome to.._, or some such other.' This one was no different; the compound instruction manual was labeled; _Welcome to SISDE Special Research Facility #7382-941_. Flipping through the pages, she found a map of the compound as it was meant to be when finished. Next to the administration building was a list of floors and their purpose. Second from the top, scientific research, just as the child said. If _Giacomo_ was a workaholic as described by Joaquin, then that is where he'll be.

Nyromi was confident that her card-key wouldn't let her into such a place. Returning to her bed, she opened her duffel sack and quickly unpacked her things, arranging them neatly on the bed.

"Ah, here it is," Nyromi said unrolling a sneaking suit; a black, form-fitting, body suit that made no sound when moving around.

She quickly slid inside the suit, zipping it up along the side. Digging again through her duffel bag, she unveiled a small pouch. After making certain of the pouch's contents, Nyromi secured it to her upper leg. Picking up a length of chain she had already unpacked, Nyromi grabbed her braids with her free hand. Swinging the chain, she brought it to the back of her head. Hearing a metallic _clink_ she lowered her hands, her ponytails now secured together.

Making sure not to forget anything, she took one last look in the dresser mirror. In order to perform her _commission_ successfully, Nyromi needed to have a meeting with the man who knew her ward best.

'There is no time like the present,' Nyromi thought. 'And besides,' she thought with a wide grin, 'it'll be good training.'


	8. Chapter 8

key:

"sp" –denotes spoken dialogue

'sp' –denotes thought dialogue

italics(_sp_)- denote expressed thought and speech

A/N: _Faustian Pact_ refers to the exchange made by a man known as Faust who (according to various European legends) gained the entire world's knowledge, but paid an unwilling price in the end. Furthermore, the previous reference to J. Robert Oppenheimer is an example of such a pact.

**VIII**

"So," Giacomo said handing Nyromi a cup of tea, "_you_ are my _bambino's _new instructor."

----------

Nyromi's attempted break-in started without a hitch. Finding an exhaust vent close to the ground, she used a hand drill from her tool pouch to unfasten the screws from the vent cover, leaving one loose in the upper left corner. This enabled the vent cover to swing open and still appear secured when returned to its original place.

After shimmying through some vent passages and an elevator shaft, Nyromi finally reached the Scientific R & D floor. Looking around, she found an access panel just in time to avoid two lab assistants. Crawling above the ceiling, she searched from room to room, until she heard someone call that name.

"Dr. Gianncomo, please turn in for the night. How long are you going to keep pushing yourself like this?"

"As long as it takes, Bianchi," Dr. Gianncomo replied. "The materials are perfect; it's their fabrication that needs work."

"I still can't understand, why won't you consider my proposal?"

"You mean cybernetic replacement instead of augmentation? Your theories are sound; but how much stress do you think that will put on the central nervous system?"

"Quite a bit; but with this method, replacements can be made available according to demand. We might even be able to cut operation time in half, all while still using your techniques.

"Don't try to flatter me Bianchi," Giacomo said, now standing to face him. "I've read through those notes, word for word. You and Gilliani plan on using raw materials."

"Well…yes…"

"Should this apparatus be applied to children, _how_ do you expect them to _grow_?"

"Why should they have to? Most adults wish to be children again anyway. Why not keep them as such?"

"Bringing physical development to a standstill won't impede mental development along with it. What you will have is a walking tank with a fragile mind."

"Have you forgotten who we work for?"

"No, I haven't. My _Faustian Pact_ can't be so easily dismissed."

"Giacomo, please listen to reason. When they have no more use for you, they'll throw you out with even less than they found you. Why shouldn't we assure ourselves a livelihood by making them dependent on us?"

"Progress doesn't work that way. In fact, science and philosophy agree on a term for such thinking, _stagnation_."

"…"

"If our benefactors don't see progressive results, they'll discard us just as easily. This is what it means to deal with the devil. It's time you saw reality."

Bianchi couldn't think of anything to return Giacomo's comments. The anger apparent on his face as truth sank into his thoughts, the sheer rationale of Giacomo's words planting roots into his mind. Quickly shaking his head, Bianchi refused to accept the reality displayed before his very eyes. Turning sharply, Bianchi rushed out the door; while Giacomo remained standing within his laboratory.

'I don't have time for this,' he thought returning to his notes, computers, and whiteboards.

'Hmph, a government scientist with a spine,' Nyromi spoke softly, crawling to the nearest access panel. 'I assumed they didn't exist anymo…'

Nyromi's soft-spoken words were cut short as her right hand felt no support. In an instant; her head, right arm, and a good portion of her torso fell through the ceiling. Nyromi made an attempt to pull her self up only to find that she was stuck. Suddenly, she noticed Giacomo holding a broom in a very threatening manner. After a tense minute; Giacomo held the broom over his head, parallel to the floor.

"Here," Giacomo said, "grab hold and push yourself up."

Nyromi nodded and grabbed the broom handle with her free hand. Another minute of struggle and Nyromi's body was back above the ceiling.

"Now, I suggest you get down from there before you run into anymore faulty ceiling tiles."

----------

Nyromi took a sip of her tea before answering, "Yes, I am. I came here because I want to know more about your _bambino_."

"What exactly do you want to know?" Giacomo asked sitting down with a cup of his own.

"…As much as you can tell me."

"You know that protocol regulations limit what I can and can't tell you."

"I'm aware, but I need to know as much about him as I can so that I may train him properly."

Giacomo crossed his arms as he studied the woman in front of him. After a few minutes of staring directly into her eyes, he chanced a question.

"What do you think of him? Joaquin, I mean."

"He's a precious boy. When I see him smile, I want to take him in my arms and protect him from the world."

Giacomo sighed a smile, reminded of his own convictions.

"May I ask you something Doctor?" Nyromi spoke.

"Please young lady, call me Giacomo."

"Very well, Giacomo. How did you know about that ceiling tile was faulty?"

"Humph, I wasn't always a medical scientist. You could say I'm a stubborn bastard as I never really understood the term of _government aid_. I worked my way through schooling. Carpentry, painting, masonry, industrial construction, I did them all. Then, I went back to them after the _Oscar Lambret_ _Center_ was forcefully nationalized by the European Union. There was a time when I refused to work for any government body."

"But then…why now?"

"You said you saw him smile. Imagine that same face in absolute, twisted agony. I guess every man _does_ have his price."

Looking at him with concern and compassion, Nyromi understood Giacomo's way of thinking.

"Tell you what," Giacomo began, "I'll prepare copies of my notes and his personnel file for you. Will that be fine?"

"Yes, of course."

"I have some pull with the security advisor; I'll talk to him about raising your clearance. I'll keep the copies until then. In the meantime, I suggest you talk to his previous trainer and the surrounding personnel. You might be surprised by what they have to say."

"Thank you."

"No need. When you've finished your tea, put on this lab coat and I'll walk you out. Should you fall through the ceiling again, I'm afraid most won't find it as amusing as I did."

"What are you going to tell _them_ about the tile?"

"That one of the rats escaped from the testing lab and fell through the ceiling."

Nyromi glared at Giacomo, surprised by the sudden comment.

"The fat, hairy bastard evaded me…twice," Giacomo grinned.

Nyromi couldn't resist grinning in turn as she continued sipping her tea.

----------

By the next day, the entire compound was buzzing with the news of Joaquin's new trainer.

"I hear the trainer's a woman," one of the security guards said.

"Yeah, she's a real looker too," another mentioned.

"You men are all the same," one of the administrative assistants said in passing. "The only thing that matters is if she'll treat little Joaquin better than Jean did."

In the gymnasium, Joaquin was gaining a few hard-earned lessons in combat.

"Owe!!" Joaquin yelled as Nyromi tightened her hold on him.

"If you rely on brute strength, you'll fall every time. Do you understand?"

"Owe! Yes, I understand! I give, I give already!!"

Releasing the boy, Nyromi rolled to a standing position while Joaquin sat on the ground rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm impressed; any normal person would've passed out within two minutes from that hold. You held out for nearly ten." Bending over, she looked Joaquin in the eye, "If you get up, I'll teach you that move."

Taking a few breaths, Joaquin stood up looking defiant at Nyromi.

"It's apparent that Mr. Croce taught you the intricacy of force," Nyromi began, "but it will only get you so far. Grace plays a much more intimate role in close quarters combat."

"Nyromi, I don't understand."

"Well, think of it this way. What happens to a tank if it charges straight ahead in the battlefield?"

"It'll get blown up…eventually."

"And if it moves around, zigzagging through the opposition?"

"It'll avoid more hits and stay moving."

"Exactly, throwing a punch doesn't count for much when you can't make a fist."

"I…I think I understand."

"Don't worry, its better understood through practice. And…can you do one thing for me?"

"Sure."

"Call me 'Omi, please?"

"'Omi…okay, but why?"

"It's…just something I was called some time ago."

"Okay," Joaquin smiled. "Will you show me that move now, 'Omi?"

"Sure…"

Standing just inside the gymnasium's entrance, Jean was spectator to the training session. With his suitcase next to him, he prepared himself to attempt the unthinkable.

Upon hearing the high-pitched wail signaling lunch-time, Joaquin and 'Omi made for the door hand-in-hand. With his heart racing, he finally stepped forward to stop Nyromi.

"Miss Lautani, if I may have a word with you?" Jean asked.

"Absolutely; Joaquin, save a place for me, please."

Jean and Joaquin glared at each other, Nyromi's words lost in the static.

"…Joaquin!"

"Sorry, 'Omi; sure thing."

Joaquin ran off to join the mass of people heading for the cafeteria. With him out of sight, Jean's attention returned to Nyromi.

"…As you were saying?" Nyromi continued.

"Ah, yes. I'm leaving to Rome for a week, maybe two…and I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me when I return.

"That sounds…nice. There're some things I'd like to go over with you."

"Oh, really? Great…um…so I guess I'll be off."

"Have a safe trip."

"Thank you."

Walking toward the government transport, Jean felt elated. Nothing could take this feeling away from him, but he couldn't shake a certain feeling of foreboding.

'It's nothing,' Jean thought. 'I'm just living in the past. Who says I can't find happiness while still getting my revenge?'


	9. Chapter 9

Key:

"sp" –denotes spoken dialogue

'sp' –denotes thought dialogue

italics(_sp_)- denote expressed thought and speech

_**A/N: For those new to the Gunslinger Girl franchise, keep in mind that since this takes place in Italy everybody is presumably speaking Italian.**_

**IX**

The cafeteria bustled with the chatter and shuffle of the many workers and few agents residing at this compound that wasn't supposed to exist. Close to the center of this bustle and chatter, Nyromi and Joaquin sat beside each other. While Nyromi sipped the remainder of her tea, Joaquin took little bites of his meal between fits of moving it around.

"What did you two talk about?" Joaquin finally piped picking at his roast beef.

"Some information I needed," Nyromi answered. "Don't play with your food, that's bad manners."

"Sorry," Joaquin said taking another small bite.

"Now, now; it's not like I'm going to marry him. You are still my number one priority."

"Really?"

"Really; really," Nyromi ruffled up Joaquin's hair. "Christ your hair grows fast; I cut it only two weeks ago. We'll have to cut it shorter tomorrow. If this keeps up, I'm just going to have to shave you bald."

"Wha…?!" Joaquin quickly raised his hands to cover his head.

"I'm only joking; I don't much like bald heads."

"Okay; 'Omi," Joaquin breathed in relief.

"Now; eat your food" Nyromi commanded. "In our line of work, we need a lot of protein and minerals."

With a smile and a quick nod, Joaquin resumed his usual speed eating.

'Just like _he_ used to,' Nyromi thought resting her head in her hand. Tears threatened, but refused to form. Nyromi looked upon her ward with great fondness, wondering if this was what salvation felt like.

* * *

In a corner of the cafeteria, the Foundation's new additions conversed. 

"They look happy don't they?" Olga said with her head cupped in her hands.

"That's our fratello for you," Antonio replied.

"Pardon, but wouldn't they be sorella in your language."

"True," Mauricio answered, "but that is used only during a boy's childhood…usually."

"Yes," Antonio interrupted. "Eventually the boy will become a man and men come first. This way is better, so that it doesn't offend anybody."

After a tense moment, Olga turned back to her drink.

"Men," she uttered under her breath followed by hushed Russian curses.

* * *

Many days had passed since Jean left for his briefing in Rome. Upon his return, he handed Nyromi a reservation card for a new restaurant. 

"Jean, this…this place…"

"I figured, if we are to discuss matters we should do so in a more…relaxed atmosphere."

"O…okay."

"Do you not have a dress?"

"No, I…I have one, I just don't…wear it often."

"Will nineteen hundred be fine?"

"Y…yes, that'll be fine."

"Excellent; I'll be waiting by the gate." With a wave Jean left, "Till then…"

Nyromi stood speechless in the courtyard, not sure of how to act or what to say. Despite being in her mid-twenties, Nyromi had never been approached by a man in such a way. If her posture and beauty didn't intimidate them, they would shy away when they found out she was…_a gypsy_. Filled with excitement and fear, Nyromi sprinted back to her room after looking at her watch. It was already sixteen hundred.

Spying Joaquin in the distance, Nyromi scooped up the boy in passing. Approaching her door, she quickly opened it before stepping inside and depositing Joaquin on her bed. Nyromi began to pace back and forth completely unaware she was speaking in London slang.

"Why couldn't he ask for something bloody simple? I mean, I like pizza or some other simple Italian dish, Italians like Italian food don't they? We could've just gone out for pizza and everything would be dog's bollocks. God, I don't even _like_ French food. Bloody hell, I don't even like the _French._"

"What's wrong?" Joaquin asked sitting up on the bed.

"But no, now he wants to take me to some flaming dive in the heart of Rome and the _tosser_ chose somewhere with a dress code no less. I just want to talk is all; it's not like we're going out as a couple. Is it? "

"'Omi, what's wrong?!" Joaquin raised his voice.

"Oh, you speak English?"

"Sort of, I'm American…remember?"

"Oh, I thought…never you mind. Sweet, sweet child; I have a dilemma."

"What kind of dilemma?"

"I…," Nyromi gulped hard, "…have a date."

* * *

Nyromi dressed herself with military efficiency stopping only while Joaquin went off to ask the other female workers for items she didn't have. Her makeup bag had gone unused for such a time that its contents had long since dried out. After two and a half hours, Nyromi took one long glance in her mirror before turning to Joaquin sitting on her bed,"Now Joaquin, I demand your honest opinion." 

Joaquin's eyes were wide with Nyromi's image before him. The bold fuchsia of the nightdress accented her eyes in such a way, it made them appear almost ethereal. Nyromi's auburn hair, no longer in short pigtailed braids, was now adorned in a classic Dutch braid with the end teasing the small of her back. Speechless, the child was frozen in awe.

"Is something wrong?" Nyromi asked nervously.

"N…no," Joaquin blushed looking away. "It's…I mean… you're…very pretty."

Not used to such comments, even from a child, Nyromi shied away.

"Thank you. I'm really not used to wearing dresses; this will be only my third time wearing one. Hopefully he'll forgive my shoes."

Looking down, they both shared a giggle at the black padded slippers that normally accompanied her sneaking suit.

"You'll be okay," Joaquin chimed. "I mean, how often do you notice at somebody's shoes?"

"You'll be surprised. That SMS training never does go away. Well my young ward, I'm off to venture on uncharted waters. Will you be at this juncture when I get back, to hear of my perilous journey?"

"Uh-huh, right here."

Smiling at Joaquin's innocence, Nyromi blew a kiss in his direction before departing for the unknown.

* * *

"Is you salad…fine," Jean asked. 

Upon entering the restaurant, Jean tried his best to be as suave and debonair as he could. Even though he had called three times to confirm his reservation, he slipped the maitre'd a hundred euro bill. His nervous gait returned when Nyromi made no mention of the gesture. The silence had broken few times for simple requests and comments, but little else.

"Yes, it's fine; and your soup?"

"Not bad, but I'd wish they used more leeks and less onions."

Suddenly, Nyromi laughed at Jean's carp.

"D…did I say something funny," Jean asked as his emotions ran wild. He didn't know whether to be charmed, flattered, or embarrassed.

"Yes, actually; you complained. I apologize; it's just something I find funny."

"Oh," Jean stated flatly before returning to his soup.

"No, nothing like that, I assure you. It's that I find people complain about things they either have complete control over or things they have no control over at all."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, not to offend you commander, but you could have requested they use more leeks and less onions."

"_Touché."_

They shared a small chuckle at this exchange of wit as they began to relax. A few moments later, their main course's arrived. Jean had ordered _filet mignon aux oignons_ with a side of _b__oeuf en brochette_. Nyromi not familiar with French cuisine in the slightest; ordered glazed duck breast with a side of steamed greens.

The waiter had given her such obnoxious glares that she almost requested a plate of _haggis_. This had not been lost on Jean; but when Nyromi responded to his whims of the waiter with courtesy and respect, the waiter's continued agony was more than enough.

"A gypsy rose," Jean muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry?" Nyromi answered.

"…So…tell me about yourself."

"Nothing much to tell really," Nyromi began between bites. "I was born in Dorechester and raised in Holyhead. My father was a ferryman and my mother; I don't remember much of her."

"Please go on," Jean said finishing his meal.

"I was eighteen when I joined the RAF. I excelled and was recommended for the SAS just before I turned twenty. I've since been shuffled between different agencies around the world."

"Impressive, and what does your family think of all this?"

"If you don't mind, I'd prefer not to talk on that."

"I…I understand."

Suddenly, the waiter appeared casting a weary eye at Nyromi.

"Is everything to your liking sir?"

"Yes, very fine."

"And your…guest?"

"The lady is also very pleased; thank you," Nyromi answered with a wry smile. "We'll be sure to leave a very nice compensation."

With a bow the waiter hurried away from the table.

"Are you really thinking of leaving _him_ something?" Jean asked in a hushed voice.

"A euro; at most," Nyromi said before sipping her wine.

Laughing Jean motioned for the check and pulled out his wallet. On their way out, Nyromi suddenly remembered what she came for.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Yes?" Jean answered.

"Joaquin's very impressive for his age. He pick's up lessons so fast, I'm afraid I'll run out."

"That he is," Jean stated growing very stiff.

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to detail your training methods. With that, I think I can provide a more thorough regimen."

"Believe me when I say I'm simply a humble Carabinieri. I doubt any of my methods would match yours."

"I see."

* * *

A few days had passed since the dinner date. Nyromi and Jean would wave to each other in passing. Nyromi was constantly training Joaquin or training herself. Jean had been asked to review potential recruits. With so much business to attend to, there was little time to attend to any relationship with each other. This however, did not stop Jean from blaming the child for this inconvenience. 

Sitting at his desk, a list lay before Jean as he tapped a pen against the fine wood grain. Closing another personnel file, Jean took his pen in hand and made a fluid line. The axe had fallen on yet another candidate. Taking another file, he tapped his pen against his desk once again when the door suddenly burst open.

Dressed in a sports bra and track pants, Nyromi's bare feet padded their way across the splinters of the shattered doorjamb. Their only decoration, a pair of ankle weights bearing an emblazoned '50kg'. A sensual; yet frightening image of presence.

Putting her palms flat on Jean's desk, Nyromi's wrist weights were in plain view. Identical to the set around her ankles, they also bared the mark of '50kg'.

"How?" Nyromi asked with trembling in her voice. "How could you?! He's only a child!!"

"Can I help you Miss Lautani?" Jean answered; his surprise turning into agitation.

"While running with the security personnel this morning, they had some…interesting things to say."

"If it is anything negative; I'm sure he or she simply doesn't like my authority. Rumors tend to be vicious when they gat out of hand."

"So, the security personnel, the construction workers, the administrative staff, and the cafeteria crew are all plotting against you? Over a hundred people who say the same thing are wrong, is that what you're telling me?"

"…I did what was necessary," Jean answered leaning back in his chair. "What have you taught him? Takedowns, circus tricks? Exactly how are cartwheels and back flips beneficial in the field?"

"I'll show you. Tomorrow, we go. Let's see whose methods are better."

"Excuse me?"

"We _fight_; you and me. First knockout wins."

"Very well, rank will be dismissed. I'll inform Director Lorenzo in an hour. I hope you don't mind being embarrassed."

"Ten hundred in the gymnasium; don't be late."

Storming out of Jean's office, Nyromi slammed the door behind her. The heavy wooden door rattled against the empty doorjamb before slowly opening again.

Infuriated, Jean picked up his phone. After dialing a short series of numbers, he yelled into the mouthpiece.

"I want the personnel file for Nyromi Lautani immediately!"


	10. Chapter 10

Key:

"sp" –denotes spoken dialogue

'sp' –denotes thought dialogue

italics(_sp_)- denote expressed thought and speech

**X**

Name: Lautani, Nyromi

DOB: 9/17/78 – Dorchester, Dorset; England

Height: 5' 6" (167.6 cm)

Weight: 8.1 stone (114 lbs /51 kg)

Nationality: Great Britain

--------------------

Current Service:

Interpol – Intelligence, Internal Investigations

--------------------

Prior Service: 

NATO - Reconnaissance, Tactical Espionage

SMS - Tactical Espionage, Interrogations

SAS – Light Infantry, Armed Response, Retrieval

RAS – Pilot w/ Search and Rescue Service

--------------------

Skill Specialty:

Hand to hand weapons

Martial Arts-various disciplines(see attached file)

Marksmanship-small arms, ranged weapons, heavy artillery

**

* * *

**

Pouring himself over the file, Jean looked through every line. For him it was a matter of habit, he knew everything there was about his opponents and enemies. Turning to her personal relations, he read on.

**

* * *

**

Known Relations:

Father: Rico Lautani

Born: No record on file

Deceased: Oct. 21 1992- Holyhead, Angelsey; Wales

Reason: Cardiac Arrest

--------------------

Mother: Janette Lautani-Holmes

Born: Jan. 7 1961- Dorchester, Dorset; England

Deceased: Aug. 17 1986- Holyhead, Angelsey; Wales

Reason: Massive hemorrhaging due to childbirth complications

--------------------

Brother: Alphonse Lautani

Born: Aug. 16 1986- Holyhead, Angelsey; Wales

Deceased: Jan. 7 1994 – Lewisham, South London; England

Reason: Trauma and blood loss due to bullet wounds – see attached case file and photographs

**

* * *

**

The last mention piqued Jean's interest, flipping through various papers he found the case file and photographs held together with a paper clip. The photo in front said everything he needed to know. A young teenage girl holding a limp child close to her, a police officer attempting to pull her away. On her knees, Nyromi clutched the child's head tightly to her chest as if trying to will her own life into him despite the bleeding from her own arm and leg.

Glancing over the case file, Jean leaned back into his chair. They were innocent, possibly on their way home from the market judging from the various items strewn about them. The target was slain abruptly, but stray bullets don't discriminate.

This woman could've understood him, in a way nobody else could. Nyromi would've completed him, helping him with his grief and in turn him with hers. They might've even helped each other in obtaining revenge. Resting his forehead within his hands, Jean's thoughts strayed to what might've been and what was. Nyromi had never been his and yet he felt her slipping through his fingers like fallen ashes all the same.

**

* * *

**

News of the fight passed quickly through the compound. Off-duty personnel, administration staff, and the construction crew lined the walls of the indoor training complex.

Walking in wearing a simple pair of pants and a plain t-shirt, Jean strode through a thick wall of silence. He could feel their eyes burning into him. They all knew how he treated the child and they all hated him for it. Arriving at the center, Jean did a quick about face looking straight at the entrance. After a few breaths, he began to stretch.

Fifteen minutes later, Nyromi walked in with Joaquin at her side adorned in her sneaking suit.

Jean smirked, "Two on one? Apparently, you can't do anything alone."

Standing at attention Nyromi said with a commander's tone, "I challenged you alone; I'll fight you alone. This will be something he deserves to watch."

"Your loss..."

Nyromi responded in a wide, menacing grin. With a nod to her side, Joaquin stepped away standing beside his pole. Taking his stance, Jean couldn't help gazing upon Nyromi. As they began to circle, it only became more apparent that Nyromi's sneaking suit hid nothing. The nubile curves and lithe definition of her body proved an apt, if unintentional, distraction for Jean.

Taking the initiative, Jean released a swift strike. With absolute ease Nyromi blocked the strike. Jean's eyes widened when he couldn't retrieve his fist from her palm. Giving his fist a slight squeeze, Nyromi cracked a few of Jean's knuckles.

"Is that all you have," Nyromi chuckled, releasing his hand. "C'mon big boy, show me some of that _Carabinieri_."

Shaking his hand, Jean's fury grew. Unleashing a flurry of strikes, Jean's assault proved useless. Dodging and batting away each attempt, Nyromi appeared at ease. Moving with a dancer's grace, the fight appeared more of a performance than a brawl.

After half an hour, Jean was breathing hard. Looking up, he saw Nyromi with her arms crossed, smiling. She was waiting for him, Jean was being played with and his anger grew. Standing straight, Jean looked into her eyes.

"What are _you_ smiling for?" Jean bellowed. "I'm not the one trying to replace their dead brother!"

Nyromi's arms dropped along with her smile. Her lips began to quiver and her eyes became moist, the pounding in her chest growing in intensity. Grabbing her shoulders, a few tears escaped her eyes. Smirking, Jean took his stance again before lunging forward.

Time suddenly stood still as a fierce echo erupted from the center of the gymnasium. The entire room felt a chill as Nyromi's scream vibrated within every corner. Throwing a straight at Nyromi, the air in Jean's lungs suddenly abandoned him. Burying her elbow further in Jean's diaphragm, she robbed them of any remaining life-sustaining air.

Stumbling back, Jean desperately tried to regain his breath feeling all the blood rush to his head. Nyromi charged again landing a sword-hand palm strike to the right side of Jean's jaw. The world become nothingness as Jean's body leaned to one side against his will. A swift heel kick to his left flank sent Jean in the opposite direction. A fierce left hook to Jean's right temple sent any sense of where he was into oblivion.

Blood poured from his mouth, nose, and ears like open faucets drenching his t-shirt. With every change of direction Nyromi had delivered, Jean left a spattered red trail.

Members of the crowd flinched with every strike Nyromi delivered.

"She's not letting him fall," said one of the guard's.

"Oh, God," one of the administrative assistants muttered.

"I…I can't watch anymore," said another turning away.

An open-palm strike and donkey kick to his chest gave rise to deafening cracks. Jean gave a quick audible moan, just before his previous trails turned into ghastly puddles. Pain spasms throughout his entire torso woke him from delirious state. Finding enough strength and time to raise an arm, Jean threw a hard right. Nyromi easily dodged the futile attack. Wrapping her left around Jean's right, Nyromi gave the arm an expert wrench. The snap echoed throughout the room, Jean's howls of pain drowning out the gasps made by the onlookers.

Nyromi delivered another precise kick to Jean's shins causing multiple cracks and pops from all over Jean's broken body. Now in mid-air, Nyromi swung Jean around before releasing his arm. Jean tumbled at an arc, the cushions along the wall ending his brief flight.

Rushing to meet him, Nyromi grabbed his head before Jean had a chance of falling to the floor. Bashing his head into the cushion repeatedly, Nyromi accentuated each blow with a slight scream. A nearly perfect round spot formed on the cushion darkening with each forearm thrust. Suddenly, Nyromi's arm was held back unable to move forward.

"Omi, stop please!!" Joaquin said his tears lining her arm. "No more, Omi! Please, no more!!"

Her rage fading away, Nyromi released Jean letting him slide to the floor. Kneeling, she saw the fear in the child's eyes accompanied with soft whines and sobs..

A different scream filled Nyromi, a silent one letting her know what she had done. Within those few moments of hell, she had forgotten that anybody was watching; especially an innocent little boy.

'Oh, God!' Nyromi screamed from within taking Joaquin in an unreturned embrace.

"I'm sorry," Nyromi whispered letting her own tears fall upon Joaquin's back.

Three of the attendees walked over to Jean, now on his side and coughing crimson filled mucus with what remained of his strength.

"I'm sorry."

Two of the men interlocked their arms, careful to support his torso while the third wrapped his arms around each leg.

"I'm sorry."

Those that remained either wailed, shivered, or both at the horror they had bore witness to.

"Oh God; child, I'm sorry."


	11. Chapter 11

Key:

"sp" –denotes spoken dialogue

'sp' –denotes thought dialogue

italics(_sp_)- denote expressed thought and speech

_**A/N: **__**Folsom Prison Blues**__** is the respected copyright of Johnny Cash, the Cash estate, and Sun Records.**_

**XI**

Staring at the wall with a blank gaze, Nyromi sat silent letting her thoughts drift. Yet, despite her resolve, images from that afternoon would not leave her. In a vain attempt to pass the time, she picked stray threads out of her sweatpants and t-shirt. A knock on Nyromi's door woke her from this solemn isolation. Answering the door, Giacomo stood at the threshold; his hands behind his back.

"May I come in Miss Lautani?"

Waiting a few moments, Nyromi granted him a silent nod. Walking into the room, Giacomo took a metal thermos from his coat pocket. Closing the door, Nyromi returned to her place on the bed looking intently at Giacomo. With a guilty gaze, she watched as he poured the hot beverage into the cup lid.

"Tea usually helps one speak, when they are unable to," Giacomo said handing her the cup.

Nyromi took a sip, the bittersweet chamomile and cinnamon slightly easing her mind. Upon gazing at her own reflection in the liquid, tears welled in her eyes once again.

"Would you mind telling me what happened in the gymnasium?" Giacomo asked.

"A bit," Nyromi looked at Giacomo pleading, "Please…don't make me."

"I didn't witness it for myself, but you have the whole compound talking."

"Please…don't."

"And Jean, a fine mess at the infirmary. He'll probably be laid up for a long while."

"Please…"

"And Joaquin…"

At that Nyromi looked up.

"…the boy's locked himself in his room. He won't even answer _for me_."

Looking back at her tea, Nyromi took another sip.

"Why did you take him there?" Giacomo began.

"I didn't mean to…"

"Honestly, did you think he needed to see that?"

"I just wanted him to feel…I don't know…vindicated; avenged, maybe."

"…Through witnessing that scene of brutality?"

Nyromi stared intently at her tea.

"He's already witnessed such a thing first-hand, he…remembers his parents."

"Yes, I've read the file."

"Then, why?"

"…No child should be treated like that."

After a long pause, Giacomo walked to the window by the door. Looking out, he spoke.

"I think the same way you do. Twice I tried to escape with him. I'm not a rich man, but I have money in banks all over Europe. We could've hidden anywhere, but it was Joaquin himself who talked me out of it.

"Why didn't you _make_ him go?"

"He makes a very convincing point. That boy is wise, well beyond his years."

Turning back to face Nyromi, his eyes became watery.

"I love that boy as if he were my own son, in many ways he is. If I can take back all that has happened, I would. I can't be there for him every time. Can I trust you to protect him?"

"With my life," Nyromi stood.

"Thank you."

* * *

The morning sun rushed into the compound like a breath of fresh air. Employees, civilian and military alike, began to occupy this vast place carrying on with their daily routines. In the office of Director Giacomo Lorenzo, the overly bright light shined down on Lieutenant Nyromi Lautani, as if judgment was to be passed over her. Standing at attention in full-dress, she nervously awaited the Director's verdict. 

"Miss Lautani?" Lorenzo began.

"Yes; sir," Nyromi shakily answered.

"I must tell you, I am not pleased. Have you gone to see Jean yet?"

"No sir, I have not."

"He's making remarkable recovery strides, but it'll be at least a month before he's at full strength again."

"Sir, I take full responsibility for my actions."

"Indeed. I allowed this fight to commence because I assumed it would be adequate in assessing your singular combat effectiveness. However, I never thought it would go this far."

"Again, I take full responsibility for my actions. Such a thing will not happen a second time."  
"I should hope so. As such, you've succeeded in forming a bond with the boy. That is your only saving grace from being dismissed outright. Miss Lautani, you're being granted one more chance."

"Thank you, sir."

"However, should we have another occurrence; I will file a report and deliver it to your superiors at Interpol. You will then deal with them and be ejected from this program. Are we clear on this?"

"Crystal."

"My own superiors with SISDE as well as certain military brass have requested a practical assessment of the boy's abilities. I believe this will be a most opportune time in which to showcase those abilities."

"How long do I have?"

"Two weeks."

"He'll be ready in one. If I may ask, what will the procedure be?"

"We'll be using Standard NATO CTF."

"Hmm, may I make a few modifications to the live-fire course?"

"I suppose, what did you have in mind?"

Nyromi smiles wide, filling Lorenzo with concern. With a few statements and recommendations; Nyromi watches in humor as Lorenzo slumps back into his chair.

"You can't be serious Miss Lautani."

"I am Director, sir."

"That is something that only the most elite squads around the world could conquer."

"Yes, I know."

"Do you honestly think little Joaquin can pull it off?"

"Begging your pardon, sir; I don't think, I believe. When he does so in record time, your supervisors will have all they need and the project will be secured for years to come."

"Very well, I'll allow it. We will be stepping out on a thin limb and I will not tolerate failure in this instance, Miss Lautani."

"Indeed."

**

* * *

**

During the week Nyromi had the construction crew build her a unique shooting range. Targets stood at four sides in a square pattern with a watchtower standing at the center. Underneath that tower, Joaquin stood with a 9mm in hand and a blindfold on his head.

"Okay Joaquin, like I said. Listen for the noise. That is where I need you to fire, understand?"

"Yes, 'Omi."

"Start as soon as you here the first snap."

Waiting in anticipation, Joaquin's hand shook. Shooting at the makeshift range was one-thing, but this new stimulus was more than a little unnerving.

"Al, sing the song I taught you."

"Okay."

Slowly, quietly, Joaquin began; _"I hear the train a comin',it's rollin' round the bend…_"

Just then Joaquin heard the _clack_ of a pop-up target,"_…and I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when…_"

Firing two shot into each target making that distinctive sound before all was silent.

"_…I'm stuck in Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on. But that train it keeps a rollin' down on to San Antone…_"

Hearing another set behind him Joaquin turned in that direction and fired again emptying the cartridge, "_…When I was just a baby, my momma told me, "Son, always be a ood boy, don't ever play with guns…_"

Something dropped to his side making a rough sound unlike the _clack_ of the targets. Just as Nyromi said she would, she dropped another gun down the watchtower. Squatting toward the sound, Joaquin picked it up tossing away the 9mm. With a snap of the lever it was ready, except something was different about this gun. The grip was bigger and the gun itself heavier, time doting on this was wasted when suddenly a fresh set of targets presented themselves to Joaquin's left.

"_…but I shot a man in Reno. Just to watch him die…_"

The targets were felled but more came with increasing frequency and they seemed to come from everywhere. Yet, Joaquin kept singing and firing all the same sometimes having to twist his body in an inhuman manner to gain any kind of angle.

"_…and I'd let that lonesome whistle, blow my blues away._"

"Time," Nyromi yelled from the watchtower.

Taking off his blindfold, Joaquin took a look at the weapons strewn around him. Two 9mm's, a .357, a .44, three 45's, as well as a 10mm lay on the floor; expended.

"Not bad Joaquin," Nyromi smiling from the latch in the watchtower. "You hit over 90, but now comes the hard part."

"The hard part?" Joaquin asked beginning to sweat.

Tossing separate plastic baggies from the tower, Nyromi looked at Joaquin again.

"In each of these plastic bags is replacement ammunition for each gun. Now; without the blindfold the targets will be coming from all directions and _you_ will have to match the correct ammunition to the correct weapon."

"O…okay," Joaquin answered his nervousness increasing.

"Oh, yes. I would like you to recant Mozart's _Marriage of Figaro and y_ou will also be doing so under fire."

"Whaaa?!"

Firing a single shot from her new Colt Commando assault rifle, a small green blotch covered the patch of dirt between Joaquin's feet.

"Now can you get them all before I make you my green meanie?"

Smiling, Joaquin sprinted toward the first baggie. Nyromi smiled in turn and centered her scope on Joaquin's back.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: OSP - military acronym meaning __O__n-__s__ite __P__rocurement_

**XII**

Sitting at one of the cafeteria benches wearing her trademark black track pants and sports bra, the dim glow from a single overhead light illuminated the slender form of Lt. Lautani. In the late evening, the dinner crowd had long since departed. Nyromi favored the cafeteria when in need of an open quiet area. Twirling a pen in her right hand; Nyromi's left thumb beat against the notepad before her in tune with Simon and Garfunkel's _A Hazy Shade of Winter_. With little Joaquin's physical assessment less then half a day away, Nyromi couldn't help think that she was forgetting something; anything. The list of weapons her ward had become proficient with had exceeded all standards, even those set by Britain's SMS. With the exception of the special live fire o-course, she kept everything else regarding Joaquin's preparation strictly to the book.

Feeling the small vibrations of boot steps, Nyromi wheeled her head around to see a young private nearly dragging, an overstuffed military duffel. Smiling, she nearly leaped from her seat. Taking off her headphones, she padded her bare feet to the young private.

"Ah; finally," Nyromi began. "I was wondering if they had given you trouble at the gate."

"At the NATO armory or here?" the private asked in turn still trying to half-way carry the bag.

"Either," Nyromi answered taking the bag from the private. With one shrug she hoisted the bag onto one of the bench seats.

"How…how did you…?"

"Oh, perfect. Did you stick to the list or go off a bit?"

"I had to go off a bit. Some of the chamber's you asked for are really quite rare. How are those recommendation letters coming?"

"I've finished writing them. I'll them typed and signed by tomorrow evening. Will that be fine?"

"Yes, that'll be more than okay."

"What of the ammunition and magazines?"

"They're…back in the truck," the private's face faulted remembering how heavy the initial duffel was.

"No matter, just wheel it toward the agent's quarters later."

"If you don't mind me asking lieutenant, why would you be in need of a lever action 30-06?"

"What time is it?" Nyromi asked with a wry smile.

"Almost midnight," the private answered looking at his watch.

"I can arrange for you to join the convoy leaving here in about eight hours. Are you interested?"

"Sure, anything beats patrol duty."

"Excellent, you'll find out when we reach the NOCS training grounds."

Wrapping the single strap around her shoulder, Nyromi gave a single tug releasing the bag from the bench. Walking to the cafeteria doorway, Nyromi waved at the private.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" the private asked of her wave.

"Would you please bring my CD player and note pad when you drop off the ammo?" Nyromi asked.

"Yes ma'am," the private quickly stammered, still in awe of the strength Nyromi possessed in her small frame.

**

* * *

**

The day of Joaquin's evaluation came. Setting records in the obstacle course, shooting range, and the recently included _stealth_ test; the tactical test would be the final assessment of his abilities. Approaching the podium, Director Lorenzo swallowed hard before presenting the final assessment's details.

"Gentlemen, officers, fellow director's, chair's, and co-chair's;" Lorenzo began. "The urban-tactical live-fire course will be the final assessment of the day. This specific course has been modified and altered due to the requested specifications of NATO International Security Force Lt. Nyromi Lautani, who has been assigned as trainer and immediate supervisor to the _Zero Subject_."

Looking around the small audience before him, Director Lorenzo could see a few of the administrators looking concerned.

"Lt. Lautani," Lorenzo called, "if you would?"

Stepping down from the makeshift podium, Lorenzo cast a nervous glance at Nyromi as she stepped to the microphone. Confident and self-assured, Nyromi smiled wide in an attempt to hold in her laughter. Setting formality aside, Nyromi quickly went through the specifications for her course.

"The live-fire tactical course will be set to full squad team parameters," Nyromi began. "The…_Zero Subject_ will be given a single 9mm pistol with a full magazine at the start of the course."

After her first statement, various military had begun to whisper amongst themselves. Upon Nyromi's second announcement, they appeared to be on the cusp of full outrage thinking this final presentation a joke.

"This test will also display and evaluate the _Subject's_ OSP proficiency. As such, various weapons in varied states of condition are placed throughout the course. The test will begin shortly and I thank you for your patience."

The previous whispers of the audience hid nothing as they rose to coherent speech. Discussions about the validity of this testing and its relevance came into question. Leaning to one side, Vice-Chairwoman Monica-Marie Petrice spoke softly.

"Lorenzo, when this is over; you and I are going to have a very long talk."

Nodding to his side was the only response Director Lorenzo dared to give.

"Joaquin," Nyromi commanded her ward, "Present your weapon."

"Yes; ma'am," Joaquin answered handing over his weapon just as Nyromi had taught him.

"Interesting, he knows the basics of gun safety," the NOCS officer standing beside mentioned.

Taking the gun from Nyromi, the officer first inspected the weapon before handing it back. After patting down the boy he nodded to his own superior. Kneeling down, Nyromi whispered to Joaquin as she replaced the gun in his side holster.

"Do you remember what I told you?"

"Yes, 'Omi; I remember."

"Tell me again."

"Stay low, run fast, act before thinking, take action before reaction."

"Good. One in the head or two to the torso counts as a kill. Don't waste your bullets and when you run out, just drop it and pick up the next one."

"Okay, 'Omi. Thank you."

"And one more thing, be careful."

Smiling up at her for a moment, Joaquin took his place at the maze's entryway.

"Urban tactical course is now live," a voice blared over the PA system. "Test commencing in five…four…three…two…" Without saying the last count and loud bullhorn signaled its start. Running into the maze the sound of gunfire was almost too much for Nyromi to bear. Walking around to the courses end, she anxiously waited.

**

* * *

**

Director Giacomo Lorenzo and Vice-Chairwoman Petrice shook the hands of many an enthusiastic administrator.

"Lorenzo," Vice-Chairwoman Petrice called.

"Yes, madam Vice Chairwoman?" Lorenzo answered with a smile.

"Forget about that talk."

Smiling wider; Lorenzo bowed, "As you wish madam Vice-Chairwoman."

Within the evaluation grounds, Nyromi doted upon little Joaquin. The boy basked in her attention and approval only too gratefully.

"I'm so proud of you," Nyromi said giving him a swing. "A soldier _twice_ your age couldn't have done it better."

Nyromi planted Joaquin giving him another bear hug with the child returning the same.

"Hi; Director," Joaquin piped seeing Lorenzo approaching.

"Director?" Nyromi said in turn after standing at attention.

"Hello Joaquin; Lieutenant," Lorenzo replied. "That display was beyond impressive."

"Thank you; Director," Nyromi and Joaquin said in unison.

"Miss Lautani, if I may speak to you privately?"

"Of course Director; Joaquin, go and play for a while."

"Okay; 'Omi," Joaquin said before bounding off toward the rope swing obstacle.

"…Director?" Nyromi asked.

"I've just had an interesting talk with my supervisors."

"What was said?"

"SISDE is satisfied and wants to continue the project as soon as we perfect fabrication."

"That's good."

"The military however…"

"What do they want?"

"They want a live assessment before they commit."

Turning away from Lorenzo, Nyromi looked toward Joaquin and smiled.

"Don't worry, we're up to it."

"We… Miss Lautani?"

"Yes, Joaquin and I. That _is_ why you brought me here, is it not?"

"True."

"When will we be briefed?"

"As soon as we get an assignment; however, there is one matter I wanted to take up with you."

"And that is?"

"General Belletini stated that his units like to use _code names_. Vice-Chairwoman Petrice likened to the idea."

"Will we be assigned such at our briefing?"

"Actually, I thought it better if you would pick them yourself. Yours shall be a battlefield designation, but the boy's will be a permanent one."

"Really?" Nyromi trailed off as her gaze became intent on Joaquin.

Swinging back and forth on that rope, Joaquin's childish gait gave way to his oblivious ness to the circurnstances surrounding him that day. In that moment, for the last time, her thoughts drifted to the brother she lost.

"Take your time Miss Lautani. You have until we receive the assignment."

"Director?" Nyromi called turning to face Lorenzo.

"Yes, Miss Lautani?"

"I've decided on a designation for myself and the child."

"Well?"

"Joaquin shall be _Alpha_, and I shall be _Omega_."

"Hmm, the beginning and the end; somehow that seems eerily appropriate."


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII**

Driving through the Italian countryside in a borrowed Integrale; Lt. Nyromi Lautani and her newly christened ward travelled to Crotone, Italy for a visit with the NATO base.

"So…nobody can call me Joaquin anymore?" Nyromi's ward asked in innocence.

"You got it; you've got what we called in the SMS a _company designation_."

"…A what?"

"From now on, on assignment especially, your name is Alpha."

"Alpha, what?" the boy inquired.

"Nothing; just Alpha, but I'll call you Al for short."

"Okay," Al smiled.

So long as 'Omi knew what she was doing, he had no reason to complain or object. Resting his head on the door of the borrowed Integrale, Al let the wind collide with his smiling face.

Stealing a glance at the content child beside her, Nyromi shook her head in amusement. The atmosphere of the Foundation allowed them to be as they were and to that she was grateful. Having to bring up Al in a strict martial environment would've crushed her. Nyromi's time in South Africa showed her what affect that lifestyle can do to small children.

* * *

Arriving at the NATO base in Crotone, Nyromi stepped out of the Integrale as per procedure. Al did the same and allowed himself to be patted down after being instructed to do so by Nyromi.

"State your business," the guard asked after completing his routine duty.

"I'm here for the graveyard; Sergeant," Nyromi answered handing over a file folder.

Turning a few pages, the Sergeant nodded at Nyromi before waving to the private at the gatehouse. With a loud a typical buzzer, the gate slowly opened.

"You're fine," the Sergeant stated, "but your son will have to wait in the commons."

"Actually; he's why I'm here," Nyromi informed the Sergeant before presenting a second file folder marked _Most Secret_.

Glancing through the paperwork, the Sergeant quickly closed the file folder after looking through only half of the prepared documents.

"Oh, s…so you're…," the Sergeant stammered.

Bringing a finger to her lips, the Sergeant understood Nyromi's subtle gesture. Clicking his heels in preparation, Nyromi grabbed the Sergeant's hand in mid-swing preventing his salute. Nyromi looked up at the Sergeant making sure she had the full attention of his eyes before moving her head slowly to the left and then the right. Nodding once, the Sergeant handed Nyromi her folders.

"Just tell me where," Nyromi said locking his eyes to hers.

"Take a right at the gate, go through the intersection, and take the next left. Then another right and straight on till you reach the end."  
"Thank you," Nyromi smiled flirtatiously.

Banging on the roof twice, Al took the signal from Nyromi and climbed back into the passenger seat. The Integrale started again and sped through the gate following the Sergeant's directions. As the gate closed, another armed guard stepped to the Sergeant to appease his curiosity.

"Sir, if I may ask, who was that?" the guard started.

"Soldier, you may not ask and you will never report seeing that car, that woman, or that child. Is that understood?"

"Y…yes, sir."

* * *

Arriving at the building, its small stature gave off an image of mystery.

"Is this the graveyard 'Omi," Al asked.

"I believe so; it sure looks like the other graveyards.."

"Other graveyards?"

"Well this is a special graveyard, now hurry inside. It's hot out here."

Inside of the building stood a single caged area and an ominous door to the side; within the cage was a graying old man reading the latest copy of _Jane's Defense Quarterly_. Looking up from his magazine, the old man gave a passing glance at the woman and child before flipping a page in his magazine.

"Hello," Nyromi started in another flirting gesture. "We…"

"You the woman that called yesterday?" the old man interrupted.

"Which woman would you be referring to?"

"No, you're not her. You actually sound polite, that other one with the steel voice was a real bitch."

"Oh, her; off the record, I agree completely."

Grinning into a half smile, the old man nodded as he continued to read his magazine.

"Just give me a few minutes and I'll get right to you."

"Very well," Nyromi answered

Waiting patiently, Nyromi stood before the cage as the old man flipped page after page at a leisurely rate. Finally after fifteen minutes, the old man put down his magazine and proceeded to the edge of the cage. Waving them around, he unlocked his area to let himself out before approaching the ominous door.

"Good article?" Nyromi asked with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Very," the old man answered. "It's a shame that Parker-Hale went out of business."

"You…like Parker-Hale's?"

"Absolutely; smooth lines, evenly displaced recoil, with better accuracy and range then most .50 caliber concepts. What's not to like?"

Looking up at the old man, Nyromi couldn't help but admire him despite his awkward manners.

"There you go," the old man stated unlocking the final bolt. "Take your time you two, there's a lot of stuff down there."

"How long has it been collecting?"

"About eight years."

"Eight…years?!" 'Omi cried. "Aren't these depositories supposed to be emptied every two?"

"Yeah, but this is a smaller base, so we're on the short end of the list. Oh, that reminds me. We had a new shipment come through last week and the enlistees aren't always adamant about emptying the chambers, so…be careful."

"I see, thank you. C'mon Al, let's go."

Walking down a winding staircase, upon reaching the bottom Al and Nyromi were greeted with a site of vast armament.

"Is is it 'Omi?"

"Yup, this is it; a gun graveyard. This is where everything that gets confiscated or used beyond repair ends up. It's like a dump site for ordinance."

"Are we here for me?"

"You got it; Jean wanted me to order you all new ordinance. However, I have a certain philosophy when it comes to firearms. When you take something that is considered dead and give it new life; that something becomes a part of you. Almost like an extension of yourself. Also, it would drive Jean just bonkers for you to use something other than his Carabinieri staples."

"I see," Al giggled.

"Well, you take the left and I'll take the right. Let me know when you find something you like."

With the many bins before them, finding suitable ordinance proved a daunting task. Judging by the various markings on the sides of the bins, the old man appeared to make an attempt to organize and properly catalog the firearms before the sheer amount of weapons being stored here caused him to abandon this in favor of a more simple approach. Starting with a bin marked '_rifles_', 'Omi searched through moving various items around until she found something intriguing.

"Oh," she thought aloud, "a Remington M24."

Pulling back the bolt she smiled as this was the .300 variant as opposed to the .338. A clunking sound caused her dismay, but Nyromi quickly dismissed this when she found it was just a dislodged barrel. Citing this as fixable, she put the rifle aside.

"'Omi," Al called. "I think I found something."

Walking to his side, Nyromi took the pistol Alpha had found. "A CZ-75, trigger still works; and it doesn't look too beat up. Good find Al; see if you can find another."

"Okay," Al smiled basking in Nyromi's approval before diving into another bin.

* * *

After three hours, the two emerged from the basement warehouse. Getting up from his stool by the door, the old man quickly locked and bolted the door.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" the old man asked.

"Almost," Nyromi replied, "I couldn't find any decent automatics."

"You won't find any SIG's or Steyr's here. If you're lucky you might find a half-decent HK."

"I know, all I saw was old Kalashnikov's and Sten's even."

"Remember, most of these firearms are confiscated instead of discarded. You'll be surprised what people can make use of."

"Too right; so, is there a place where we can strip these?"

"There's a workbench in the cage, help yourself."

"Thanks."

With Alpha carrying three pistols and Nyromi carrying a rifle and shotgun, they placed them all upon the workbench. In the place of an automatic, Nyromi had chosen a Winchester M1897 shotgun. Mainly because it had the bayonet still attached and would serve as a decent enough assault weapon. Soon after Alpha found another CZ-75, he came upon an interesting find; an Obregon .45 pistol. Interesting enough, only a few hundred of these pistols were manufactured and it utilized a unique rotating barrel mechanism that supposedly rivaled Glock in its reliability.

After stripping the whole of their ordinance, Alpha and Nyromi stood back and gazed upon their newly acquired cache. Pulling a small notepad out of her back pocket, Nyromi verbally marked down her assessments.

"That first CZ only needs cleaning and a re-lube, same for that Mexican pistol, but that second CZ is going to need a new magazine release. The rifle has a dislodged barrel which we can easily enough remount, but I think it might be better to upgrade and retrofit it to modern specifications. That bloody shotgun is going to be bullocks to deal with however. It needs an entirely new slide mechanism."

"'Omi, I was thinking."

"Yes?"

"What if we used carbon-fiber in place of replacement parts?"

"That's an interesting idea in the least, but that means we'll need to order the replacements from a custom fabricator."

"Won't we have to anyway?"

"That is the truth…I tell you what, I'll consider it."

"Okay."

"Now put these back together best you can, and I'll see about getting us a bag."

"Roger."

Watching the woman and child walk out with their arsenal, the old man folded up his magazine and leaned back in his chair. What had they come to when even the modern world would use children in battle? For the first time in his career, that old man considered retirement.


	14. Chapter 14

**XIV**

With the custom replacement received, Al's new weaponry had been left in the capable hands of the Foundation's resident gunsmith. In the meantime, Nyromi had been notified of the upcoming mission and took it upon herself to gather the necessary area-intel prior to the mission briefing. Nyromi was now using this opportunity to give Alpha a lesson in mission assessment and recon.

"No, Al, an aerial drop will cause too much fuss."

"Is it the trees Omi?"

"Absolutely; though that's just the beginning. First of all, there's too much risk on the parachutes getting caught in the foliage. Second, a half-decent patrolman will notice something if too many birds fly off at once. Lastly, we can't see underneath foliage that dense. We could be dropping onto a rock formation or even a patrolman."

"Okay then, so no air drop. Then what about this creek here?"

"Interesting…"

"Since we have to cover our tracks, the creek will just wash whatever we leave after a good rain won't it?"

"Yes, especially if we fan out and step light. What I also like is the natural structure of this entry."

"What do you mean?"

"From what we _can_ see, there are stones, logs, stumps, and fallen trees. They'll provide excellent cover should we need it. Good find, Al."

With a wide grin, Alpha basked in the approval of his partner.

"And not a moment too soon," Nyromi said glancing at her watch. "Briefing is in an hour. Al; go down to the armory and pick up your rifle and nine's, Jacque should be done with them by now. After that, take them to your room and lay out your gear. We might need to leave at a moment's notice so I need you to be ready.

"Okay 'Omi," Al said as he bounded off out of the cafeteria.

Watching the boy run off, Nyromi now had a minute to be nervous for the both of them.

"If there is a God," Nyromi spoke quietly to herself, "Please don't his first mission be his last."

* * *

"So, they have their first mission tonight?" Jean asked from his bed.

"Yes," Director Lorenzo answered sitting next to his bed.

"What are the mission parameters?"

"They are escorting a covert military unit and providing support."

"We're finally going after the Five Republics?"

"Yes, finally we'll be able to cut off the head and see them done."

"I wish I could be with them."

"I know, but you're in no shape to train much less be participating in a mission."

"Take no chances?"

"…Precisely."

* * *

"All units; hold your position," Nyromi said quietly into her com. "Alpha, tell me something good."

Looking through the scope of his newly refurbished Remington M24, Alpha scanned a clearing through a heavily wooded area. Sitting up high in a tree, Alpha noticed two armed men traipsing through the brush.

"Two hostiles spotted," Alpha responded. "Requesting permission to terminate…"

"Permission granted."

Targeting the one in walking ahead of the other, Al squeezed the trigger firing off a silenced .300 Whisper.

Through his scope, Al saw him fall a second later. The guard walking behind him laughed at his fallen comrade.

"Don't trip," Al spoke silently as he pulled back the bolt and loaded a second round with expert efficiency. When the second guard looked up from his fallen comrade, Al squeezed off another round. Looking around in fear, the second guard fumbled for his com when the round severed his spine upon entry and destroyed his trachea upon exit. "…Threat eliminated, entry route clear."

"Roger," Nyromi said in response. "All units proceed to entry point A."

"Roger," the team leader said as the sound of rustling grass could be heard.

"Can you follow from within the trees Alpha?"

"…Affirmative."

"Stay up there until we start the entry."

"Check."

Looking up Nyromi saw a slight rustle of leaves before starting off herself. Strolling through the shallow creek that would mask their entry and exit, Nyromi was hard pressed to control her frustration. By her assessment, _this_ covert unit was a bit on the noisy side. Arriving at the small inlet, Nyromi called to Alpha once more.

"Alpha, give me a distraction."

"…On the way," Alpha said as he tossed an incendiary grenade at the far guard tower.

Within seconds the wooden structure was alit with flame and smoke. Confusion and disarray could be heard from within the compound as they hurried to put out the unexpected fire.

"West wall clear," Alpha said over his com.

"Bravo team," Nyromi called, "proceed."

"Roger; Omega," the Bravo team leader responded.

From behind Nyromi, a group of five men ran to an exposed basement door. Using a can of liquid nitrogen, they broke the lock and proceeded to infiltrate the basement. Stepping up from the embankment, Alpha dropped down from the trees on the other side.

"Alpha," Nyromi called.

"Yes; Omega," Alpha called back.

"When they get out of there, I want you to expend your rifle then provide suppression fire with _both_ of your CZ's. Understood?"

"Yes, Omega; what are they doing there anyway?"

"We're not supposed to ask, but if they're assignment is even half of what I think; they're going to be coming out guns blazing. Be ready."

"Check," Alpha said taking cover behind a stump just as Omega had done.

The wait was agonizing to the two specialists as contact had been cut off with the main group. After approximately twenty minutes, shots rang out from the basement door. Not a moment later, Bravo team had emerged from the basement followed closely by a hail of bullets. After Bravo team was reasonably out of harm's way, Alpha and Nyromi fired a volley of their own at the thugs coming out of the basement. One by one, they fell to Alpha's Remington and Nyromi's Steyr. After firing a fifth round, Alpha shouldered his Remington and pulled both CZ's as Nyromi instructed. Out of the corner of her eye, Nyromi saw a stray bullet strike the fleeing Bravo leader.

"Alpha," Nyromi called, "on me!"

After reloading his CZ's Alpha slid down the embankment just as Nyromi had gathered the fallen Bravo leader.

"We only have another minute," Bravo leader muttered.

"Al, move now!" Nyromi yelled at her back.

Hoisting the Bravo team leader onto her back, Nyromi ran toward a downed tree as Alpha backpedaled behind her. Leaping over the log, Nyromi quickly deposited the Bravo leader behind the largest portion of the tree before pivoting on one leg. Just as Alpha leaped over the tree, Nyromi grabbed the Remington on his back and pulled him down. After covering Alpha with her own body, a series of explosions tore the landscape asunder with each one louder and harder than the last. When it was all over, Omega crawled over to the Bravo team leader to tend to his wound. Alpha had walked around the tree, curious as to what they had done.

The compound before him was now a smoking ruin filled with rubble and curiously smelling of burnt hair. Moans and cries soon accompanied the wreckage. Looking around him, Alpha found himself in the center of a field of carnage. The lucky ones died from the initial blasts. Those not so fortunate attempted to escape in their deformed bodies filled with debris and shrapnel. One man had managed to rise to his knees and made a futile attempt to climb the embankment. Walking over to him, Alpha placed his hands upon the injured man's shoulders. As he looked up, Alpha saw into eyes filled with fear and pain. From behind him, a shot rang true, prompting Alpha to pull his CZ. Seeing as the shot belonged to Nyromi's gun, Alpha lowered his weapon.

"Alpha," Nyromi called, "we are a covert unit and this is a black operation."

"Ma'am," Alpha responded.

"Nobody is supposed to see us and if they do, they must be terminated at the earliest convenience. Is that understood?"

"Crystal, Omega."

Reloading a single CZ with his last cartridge, Alpha looked at the downed man as tears began to erupt from his swollen eyes.

"Don't worry," Alpha began as he pulled back the slide. "This won't hurt."

Aiming the barrel between the eyes of his victim Alpha whispered, "I promise."


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: The Covenant Reformation Group or CRG; is the intellectual property of Colonel Marksman and is being used with expressed Permission.**_

_**The Peoples Reformation Front or PRF; makes its appearance in Maxwell's Daemon's **__**Old Guard, New Blood**__** and is also being used with expressed Permission.**_

**XV**

"So, we are in accordance then," a familiar voice said over Director Lorenzo's speakerphone.

"Yes; Vice-Chairwoman," Lorenzo answered with a slight tone of loathing.

"Very well; I'll have the mission specifications sent over right away. With their success rate as it is, I expect nothing less than completion, Lorenzo. The candidate for Prime Minister has assured me that after this _completed_ assignment, we will have a sovereign division for you approved before the end of the year."

"Thank you; Madam Vice-Chairwoman. I assure you, they will not fail."

"Let's hope not Lorenzo, for your sake."

Rising from his chair, Director Giacomo Lorenzo looked out of the office window and closed his eyes, trying to blink back his foreboding on this next assignment.

When the performance evaluation from their first mission made its way around the Italian agencies, requests for _the fratello_ came no less than twice a week. Soon, Alpha and Omega were making a very profound name for themselves in high-risk missions. At least until the Foundation received some disheartening intelligence from SISDE and the military.

After the Five Republics headquarters was annihilated; the terrorist organization was crippled, but not destroyed. A faction of the original organization still held influence, but lost ground due to their need for rebuilding and in the face of rising competition.

Some former members took to their own northern homelands and aligned themselves with the Padanian activists turning what once was a peaceful protest into a radicalized militia. To make matters worse, other former members created their own offshoot cells.

Aligning with several communist sympathizers, some former members of the Five Republics founded an emerging group. Naming themselves the Red Brigade, this increasingly violent faction began living true to their name from the start as they began a siege of guerilla terrorism in the south.

Through their underworld informant's, SISDE became aware of a faction called the Covenant Reformation Group. Appearing in mentions and wire taps, the only intelligence that could be gathered by SISDE was a strong interest in acquiring arms and artillery. For this reason alone they would remain watched yet unhindered, for now.

Knowledge of a fifth cell had also reached the intelligence operatives, but even less was known about this People's Reformation Front. However, in light of the increasing violent demonstrations by the Padanian faction, the Red Brigade, and what remained of the Five Republics; the Chrysalis Foundation hoped that the latter two would fall by the wayside.

After the disheartening realization that a bad problem was made even worse; law enforcement supervisors and military administrators across Italy slowly came to the realization that the Five Republics was now truly thus. Every agency and law enforcement body in Italy was stretched far too thin. The NOCS, Carabinieri, SISDE, and even the military strained themselves to the brink of effectiveness. Four months after the Chrysalis Foundation's _Zero _Mission, Alpha and Omega became requested so much that the twice a week assignments became longed for by both the Chrysalis Foundation's logistics staff and the _fratello_ themselves.

"Catrina," Lorenzo spoke into his office com."

"Yes; Director," she answered.

"Notify Dr. Gianncomo that I will oblige his requestat 1600 hours."

"Yes, Director."

"Also, send Lt. Lautani to my office when she returns to the compound."

"Of course, Director. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you."

* * *

Strolling through the courtyard, Alpha and Nyromi had just completed their sixth assignment in three days with the latter four being summary missions.Sweaty, hungry, and anxious for the comfort of a proper bed; the_ fratello_ planned on taking full advantage of the sixteen hours before their next mission. Four days of missions had worn _the fratello_ nearly to their breaking point. Rest became a luxury and was often taken over food.

Looking over her shoulder Nyromi noticed that Alpha had decided on holding his shotgun across his shoulders instead of against one, but looking at the boy's swollen and sleep deprived eyes only made her sympathetic. With the Winchester bouncing with every step, Alpha had lost all sense of inner monologue.

"I wonder what was in that package?" the boy thought aloud.

"I don't know," Nyromi answered with same tone of indifference. "We're not supposed to ask, remember?"

"Oh, right."

After a few more steps, a guard from the front gate intercepted the pair just as the agent residence was within immediate view.

"Lt. Lautani," the young guard said as he tried to catch his breath. "We've just received a call from Director Lorenzo. He's requested an audience with you in his office."

"…Now?" Nyromi answered with the venom of irritation on her tongue.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Al," Nyromi called as she took the AUG-A1 from her shoulder. "Take this to my room and field strip it, please."

"Do you want me to clean it?"

"No, I'll do that later. Thank you, though."

"Okay; Omi," Alpha said wearily as he shouldered Nyromi's AUG.

* * *

"For the next fifteen days," Lorenzo began, "all your assignments have been cancelled, transferred, or postponed. "

"Yes…sir," Nyromi answered with a bit of confusion in her voice.

"This next assignment is of the utmost importance. You two have a maximum of ten days to prepare and assess."

"…Assess? Sir, if I may ask, exactly who's assignment are we assisting?"

"It's ours."

"…Ours, sir?"

"As in the Foundation's, this is our first genuine assignment involving neither conjecture nor support to or by another agency or law enforcement body. After the completion of this assignment, we will be a huge step closer to being recognized as a sovereign agency."

"And…and our assignment, Driector?"

"Your _assignment_ is to eliminate Marciano Nicolleta."

"The millionaire Senator?"

"The same."

"Sir, this…this is…"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"…This can't be a …assassination…is it?"

"We are simply cutting off a supposed primary monetary source to the Five Republics. Our window of opportunity will only be open within the next ten days as he vacations in his offshore manor. Also, the term _assassination_ is to _not_ be used within the walls of this compound."

"Very well, _sir_."

Turning in an about-face, Nyromi held back the urge to clench her fists. Walking toward the door her various aspects of control had extended to her eyes as well.

"Lieutenant, there is _one more thing_," Lorenzo said as Nyromi palmed the door handle.

Without looking back she answered; "Yes, sir?"

"The future of this program _and_ the boy's life rest on the success of this mission. Is that clear…_Agent Omega_?"

"…Crystal…sir."

* * *

Choosing the stairwell over the elevator, Nyromi refused to let anyone see her. One word, one greeting, could release the torrent of emotions running through at the moment. At the bottom of the stairwell, Nyromi set free the torrid mix of sorrow, anger, and desperation reached its final boiling point. With a single wail, Nyromi sobbed allowing her body to slide down to the floor before curling herself up into a ball. The precious boy that she would come to regard as her own, even so far as to give him a namesake dear to her, would be stripped of any remaining innocence.

* * *

Dr. Giacomo Gianncomo sat in his chair patiently awaiting Director Lorenzo. With a concerned sense of concentration creasing his forehead, the same change he noticed in his assistants so long ago seemed to spread to the Director as well. In administration meetings, it appeared that the Director had shifted his priority to pleasing the Agencies and government administrators.

"This had better be important Doctor," Lorenzo said after closing the door.

"I have some disturbing findings you need to be made aware of."

"Why couldn't it wait until the next administration board meeting?"

"These finding might alarm the entire division."

"And who knows of these findings?"

"Doctor Bianchi and myself."

"Very well, you now have my undivided attention.

"For the child's age and geno-ethnic background he should be at a minimum height of 135 cm. After the boy's physical last week, it is confirmed that he is currently 131 cm tall."

"I see."

"Previous medical records showed a highly normal growth pattern consistent with the data we have available. Based upon the data from our own initial medical records and his subsequent physical examinations…"

"Yes…Doctor?"

"He has only grown by 2 cm in the entire fourteen months he's been with us."

"Excuse me?"

"Something happened, I don't know exactly what, but something definitely happened to his growth hormone production. The good news is that it appears he had only just begun puberty when he was given the infusion therapy which is why we aren't seeing any severe negative side effects of a physical or psychological nature."

"What does that mean Doctor?"

"That means that this might have happened as a result of the infusion therapy, but not in a _forced_ manner."

"…_Forced_?"

"Yes, it seems his body reacted to the other stimulus of what I've done. So, his body could be just readjusting."

"I see, and what will this do to the recovery time of new subjects?"

"Recovery time? Next to nothing, I imagine. Director, I'm speaking of the future of the subjects _after_ the Foundation."

"…After? I'm sorry Doctor, but it seems we were at yet another misunderstanding."

"Excuse me?"

"This finding is quite exceptional good news. If we can see about making this, at the very least, a semi-permanent feature; we will have operatives that are beyond the effectiveness of a _adult_ operative by having a built-in cover feature. Seriously, who in all of Italy would expect a child to be armed and dangerous? The covert aspect of what we do could be accelerated to a new high."

"Director, I never…!!"

"If you won't do it, I'll hand this project over to Ricardo Bianchi."

"…"

"Speaking of _recovery times_, have you made any progress in decreasing the time from infusion to full operational capacity?"

"I have it down to three months."

"I want no more the 8 weeks at the test-prototype stage by the time we get approved for a branch agency."

"I can't be done without compromising the physiological axiom of the entire body."

"Can't…hmm, it looks like I should make a lsit of things for Bianchi to take over."


	16. Chapter 16

**XVI**

"Okay," Dr. Bianchi started. "Alpha, do you know why you're here?"

"Yup," the boy responded. "You want to see if I'm kee-razy."

With a giggle and a laugh, Alpha made a few hand gestures in a brash attempt to mimic someone of less sanity.

"This room, it's so small, I can't take!" Alpha quipped again in response to the space converted into an improvised interrogation room. Taking a look at the two-way mirror to his right, Alpha opened his eyes wide before looking back at Bianchi with awkward sense of alertness. "Do you hear them Doctor?"

"Hear what?" Bianchi answered back.

"Our reflections," he said before looking sternly at the two-way mirror again. "I mean, isn't that why they call it a _two-way mirror_?"

After a few seconds of firm consternation, Alpha released a loud torrent of laughter. After catching his breath he laid his head down on the table and begun to pound his fist into it with each boast. On the other side of the mirror, a couple of the attending doctors tried in vain to hold in their own humor at the poor joke. Firm gazes from Director Lorenzo and Vice Director Milani stilled the laughs but not the smiles. Within a few minutes, Alpha had calmed down enough to resume the conversation.

"So," Alpha began, "is _that_ loony enough for you, Doctor?"

"Alpha," Dr. Bianchi gritted his teeth in frustration, "this is a serious test and I would appreciate it if you would take it seriously as well."

"Okay, Doctor. What do you want to know?"

"First; tell me how your feeling?"

"Just fine; the chicken tonight was a little bland, but other than that…"

"…Chicken."

"Yup."

"O—kay, you seem content then."

With a smile and a giggle, Alpha waits as Doctor Bianchi writes down a few notes.

"Tell me about Nyromi?" Bianchi began again.

"What about her?" Alpha answered with a bit of a defensive tone.

"How has she been treating you?"

"Like any sister would."

"And why do you say that?"

"…Because she _is_ my sister."

"Alpha, may I remind you that the two of you are not blood related."

"Does that matter? Don't siblings by choice share a stronger bond then siblings by blood?"

"I'm asking the questions here, Alpha."

"Maybe you should learn to receive what you throw."

Behind the two-way glass, shuffles of laughter and uncomforting sounds slowly filled the room. Even Ferro could not resist the impulse.

"Little smartass," Ferro muttered under her breath while crossing her arms. Director Lorenzo pursed his lips in frustration at the boy's defiance.

Back at the interrogation table, Alpha and Bianchi engaged in a staring contest as Bianchi tapped his pen against his clipboard.

"Let's change the subject then shall we?" Bianchi said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, lets."

"Alpha, do you feel anything for what you've done in the past?"

"Like what?"

"Remorse, guilt, sorrow; those sorts of things."

"Regret, shame, grief; no I don't feel those emotions at all."

"Then what do you feel to those whose lives you have taken?"

"In a word, apathy."

"…Apathy?"

"Yes, complete and total indifference."

"If I may _dare_ to ask, why?"

"What else would I feel? They are all bad men and women, are they not?"

"Yes, but…"

"It's my trade and frankly, I'm good at it. 'Omi even said that I'm the best she's ever seen, and that's coming from a NATO Covert Operations Specialist."

"Actually, she's a former member…"

"Says you; but regardless it's my job. I kill bad people so that good people may flourish, easy as that."

"I see."

Putting down his clipboard, Bianchi stood up and gazed down at the boy.

"If you would Alpha," Bianchi said, "please take a seat in the room across the hall."

"Okay," the boy said as he bounded out of the room.

After a few tense minutes the administration, sans a Doctor Gianncomo, waltzed into the interrogation room to question Bianchi.

"So," Director Lorenzo started, "did you get anything?"

"Yeah," Bianchi answered, "the creeps."

"Aside from that."

"Director, he is a complete enigma."

"Explain."

"His loyalty to his _sister_ is practically uncanny, even without any blood relation and with the little time they spend outside of work. He maintains the demeanor of a defiantly innocent child, yet he approaches his…_trade_…like a man three times his age. In this aspect of the project, we've succeeded where others in history have failed. We've created the perfect soldier; he doesn't question orders, he doesn't stop, he doesn't tire, and by personal opinion I believe he doesn't know _how_ to fail."

"War worn and war torn, but not war weary," Jean added.

"Yes, exactly."

"Interesting, this will bode well for the upcoming machines."

"Actually Director, I have some concern in that regard."

"Yes?"

"In all honesty, I believe Alpha to be a rare specimen."

"In what way," Ferro added joining the conversation.

"I researched his history and upon doing so, I believe his work ethic to be something instilled in him by his parents. His performance is simply an extension of that."

"I see," the Director said. "And I suppose you don't expect this in any further subjects."

"No, sir. Not unless we raise them from birth."

Standing there stoic, Doctor Bianchi, Jean Croce, Director Lorenzo and Ferro Milani

"Is there any around it?" Ferro insisted.

"Maybe," Bianchi answered, "but it will involve taking the boy to the university."

"What for?" Jean asked.

"They have a neuroscience department that has been experimenting with encephalon extraction."

"Excuse me?" the Director asked.

"Basically, it is the removal of brain wave data in real time."

"Has it been tested on a child?" inquired the Director.

"No, but if I may say; there has been no child like our Alpha"

"Very well," the Director ordered. "When would you like to commence this test?"

"Tonight, would be ideal."

"Why tonight?" Ferro asked.

"For the moment, we have him away from his overprotective c_aretaker_."

"Understood, Ferro arrange for transportation. Bianchi, is there anybody you need?"

"I would like to take along Gilliani and Belasario."

"Ferro, make it so."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Arriving at the university, Alpha was amazed by the vastness of such a place.

"Have you ever seen a university, Alpha?" Bianchi questioned the boy.

"No, my dad liked to keep me away from them. He said that if I ever stepped foot in one, I wouldn't want to leave."

"I see."

Inside of the neuroscience wing, Doctors Gilliani and Belasario then attached electrodes to the boy's scalp before placing a plastic dome upon his head. A laboratory aide had been bribed with a position within the government in exchange for operating the apparatus.

"Now Alpha; I want you to relax," Bianchi said through the microphone. "You might feel a slight tingle, but that is perfectly normal."

"Okay," the boy answered. "Where's 'Omi, I want to see 'Omi."

"She's on her way kid, they had to take a separate route."

"Will she be here soon?"

"Yes, of course."

"Doctor, why am I tied down?"

"Trust me Alpha, it is necessary. Now just breathe slowly."

With a few breathes, Alpha had relaxed a little, but not enough to ease his misgivings.

"Doctor," the aide said. "We're at the optimal neutral state."

"…Proceed," Bianchi said with a smile creeping along the side of his face.

Upon the first jolt of pressure Alpha's eyes opened wide. The feeling was like something began sucking out his insides through his ears. The experience was not very pleasant at all.

"Is the subject stable," Bianchi asked the aide.

"Cranial pressure remains at optimum threshold…and holding."

"Increase the power."

"Yes, doctor."

With the increased power, Alpha grabbed at the side his bed as he felt tears running down his face and mucus build up within his nostrils.

Through all of this he managed to utter two words, "It…hurts."

"Did you hear that?" the aide asked Bianchi.

"I didn't hear anything," Bianchi replied. "How is the subject?"

"Twelve percent past optimal threshold, but still below redline output. Amazing, our adult volunteers haven't been able to go this long."

"And the data?"

"It's…it's off the chart. His encephalon is recording at all five strands. It's like his skull is a carbon conduit."

"Perfect, take him to ten percent past the, redline output was it?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Take him there and hold until I say."

"Y…yes, sir."

With the new increase in pressure, Alpha felt as if his eyes were going to explode. In response he closed them, but somehow, it made the pain even worse. Unable to withhold himself any more, Alpha screamed.


	17. Chapter 17

**XVII**

Walking through the entry courtyard, Alpha stumbled as if he were intoxicated. The good doctors had seen it fit to let the boy walk back to the Agent's Quarters from the entryway. Now as he gazed upon the door to his room, a torrid fit of nausea and hallucination settled in. Dropping to his hands and knees, the grass below seemed to sway despite the lack of a breeze. Before long, Alpha expelled what little remained of his stomach contents.

* * *

Hearing the shuffling of feet outside of her door, Nyromi jumped at the sound. Alpha had been with the administration since the early evening for his _psychological assessment_. Opening her door, Nyromi's expectations of a bored and weary Al were dashed. Before her eyes in the dark of night was a child with the thousand-yard stare and a heavy breath, just like the greenies in NATO, It was if he walked through hell and only wanted to go home.

"Al," Nyromi called as she lowered the boy, "what happened?"

"The…crown," Alpha muttered. "They gave me a crown, 'Omi?"

"Al…what crown?"

"It hurts 'Omi. The crown hurts."

With tears in her eyes, Nyromi clutched the boy close, but anger turned into concern when she felt something wet against her chest. Pulling away from her ward, Nyromi noticed the droplets falling from Alpha's nose and ears. Alarm filled her being as Alpha's body suddenly went limp in Nyromi's arms.

"Alpha?!" Nyromi yelled before giving the boy a firm slap across his face. "Stay with me goddammit! Do you hear me?! That's an order!"

Hoisting the boy in her arms, Nyromi sprinted across the courtyard. Approaching the administration building, Nyromi eyed one of the guards in the process of lighting a cigarette.

Looking over at the approaching woman, the guard recognized the familiar auburn hair and an expression he'd seen a few times too many.

"Open that door!" Nyromi yelled at the guard.

Spitting out his cigarette, the guard opened the door while his second quickly stepped out of Nyromi's way. Arriving inside the lobby, the guard called her over to the freight elevator as he stumbled with his keys. The second guard approached Nyromi to see what the matter was. Looking over to the obviously new recruit, Nyromi revealed her tear-streaked face and the barely conscious child in her arms.

"Felix…" the first guard called to the second.

"Yes; sir," Felix answered.

"Call the doctor."

"…Wh…which one?"

"Get the third floor operator and ask for Giacomo Gianncomo. Let the operator know that he has a _precious package_ coming and make sure to repeat it."

"Roger."

* * *

Running down the hallway in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, Giacomo stopped abruptly as he met Nyromi in mid-stride. The bleeding from Alpha's nose and ears had still fallen in droplets. After shining a penlight into Alpha's eyes, Giacomo saw little response from his pupils.

Looking at Nyromi; Giacomo gave his orders, "Third room on the right. Try your best to keep him somewhat conscious."

While Nyromi sprinted to the designated room, Giacomo turned into the room to his left. Taking two vials and syringes, Giacomo made his own way into the room.

* * *

"What's wrong with him?" Nyromi asked as Giacomo pulled back the plunger to one syringe filling it with the first medication before holding it in his mouth.

Taking the second syringe and vial, Giacomo filled it by half before running an alcohol swab on Alpha's arm. Injecting the contents of the second syringe into the child, Giacomo waited a moment before giving Alpha the contents of the first syringe.

"Dr. Gianncomo; what's wrong with him?" Nyromi asked again.

"He has a bad case of cerebral edema," Giacomo answered.

"…What?"

"His brain is swelling."

"What are you giving him?"

"A corticosteroid cocktail and 2 cc's of epinephrine to push it through."

"What'll that do?"

"The steroids will reduce his swelling, so long as he got here in time."

"How long is he going to be like this?"

"I don't know. The next twenty-four hours will tell me what I need. What was he doing today?"

"Just before dinner, I was giving him a lesson in hand-to-hand weapons combat before he was called away by Ferro for a _psychological assessment_.

"That means he was in the hands of the administration. Nyromi, I need you to go."

"Doctor, I don't want to leave."

"Nyromi, you have to; at least for now."

"Why?"

"They did something to cause this and I want to know what that was. They are having some sort of meeting on the fifth floor."

Taking two steps back, Nyromi nodded in approval as her expression became one of anger and purpose. Spinning toward the door, Nyromi set off for the fifth floor in a gait that radiated force.

* * *

On the Executive Floor, Dr. Ricardo Bianchi and his team began a very enthusiastic presentation of their findings. Director Lorenzo and Vice-Director Milani were the only souls in attendance.

"These here," Bianchi began, "are printed readouts on the Zero Subject's brainwave patterns."

"And of what purpose are these Bianchi," Lorenzo asked as he moved the forms around the conference table.

"Alone, they are like any EEG scan. Dr. Gilliani…?"

Smiling, Dr. Gilliani opened a small parcel revealing something resembling a microchip.

"However," Bianchi began again, "with _this_ we can include isolation and even expansion of certain mental traits in future subjects."

"How is that supposed to work exactly?" Lorenzo asked.

"_That_ is the hard data of his brain scan in an electronic format. Considering that most brain impulses are tiny electronic signatures anyway, I believe it would be better to _rewrite_ future subjects into something more…favorable to what we do or rather will do here."

"Interesting, but what _traits_ would be involved."

"Traits such as the child's loyalty, his perseverance, his professionalism, his constant learning curve, the boy's eagerness to complete assignments and please his _'Omi_."

"Can you inhibit some of his traits?" Ferro spoke up for the first time.

"What do you mean?" Bianchi asked his supervisor.

"…His arrogance."

"Is that all Miss Milani?"

"No, we can inhibit that individuality of his. I'm sure all of you have taken notice of that _stand alone_ behavior of his. To make this new project more…complete, it might be a good idea to make them more dependent on their immediate superiors and less dependent on themselves."

"So, in other words, it is better to make the future subjects as submissive to _our_ will as possible."

"I see," Director Lorenzo spoke again. "This way, we only have to control the caretakers without having to worry about the…"

Practically throwing the double door to the conference room open, Nyromi stormed into the large room. Dressed in nothing more than sweatpants and a tank top, Nyromi revived sensations of lust and fear in the presiding men. Jean especially felt sweat bead up on his brow as his heart raced to a familiar beat.

Looking at the administrators, Nyromi saw frustration and contempt in the eyes of Director Lorenzo and Vice-Director Milani. Yet in the eyes of the three scientists, she saw a firm sense of apprehension. Marching toward their leader; Nyromi grabbed Bianchi and in one fluid motion spun him out of his chair and onto the nearest wall. With her grip firmly pinning Bianchi, she made her demand known.

"What did you do to him?!" Nyromi yelled loud enough to make Bianchi flinch. Afraid to so much as breath, Bianchi merely hung there as his lips trembled. "…Answer me!!" Nyromi screamed again.

"Lt. Lautani; this is a private meeting not to mention completely out of line!" Director Lorenzo declared to Nyromi.

"You," Nyromi said nodding to Dr. Gilliani. "Where did you take the boy this evening?"

"W…we took him to the University?"

"…For?"

"…Experimentation."

Dropping Bianchi to the floor, Nyromi walked over to Gilliani. Standing face to face with the doctor, Nyromi used every ounce of willpower she had to keep from lashing out.

"And why was I not notified?" Nyromi asked.

"Because he does not belong to you; Lieutenant," Director Lorenzo spoke as he rose from his chair.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll say it slowly then; he-does-not-belong-to-you. He is a product of the Italian Government and this very Foundation. The program has been all but finalized in which the Foundation will receive its own branch of government. That thing you call a boy is officially a prototype, that is to say, he is expendable."

"You…you can't be serious. I'll take no part in this!!"

"Since you are here we might as well give you a bit of news. Ferro…?"

"Yes; Director," Ferro answered as she reached into her briefcase and pulled out a thin folder. After a throat clearing, "In the regard to the acquisition of Lieutenant Nyromi Allison Lautani; permanent transfer to Italian Intelligence jurisdiction approved."

"But…I never signed…"

"There is a following quote Lieutenant," Ferro said before turned her attention back to the folder.

"Finally, someone put a leash on that gypsy bitch."

Closing the folder, Ferro looked into Nyromi's eyes. Tears began to well within Nyromi's heart as she found all eyes on her. With her fists now hanging limp by her sides, Nyromi felt defeated for only the second time in her life.

"Is there something you don't understand about this?"

"I," Nyromi said before taking a big gulp of air, "I understand…sir."

"Very well then…_Agent Omega_, return to your quarters until further notice."

"Just tell me, what did you do to him?"

"In short," Bianchi said finally regaining his breath. "It was a form of…reverse shock therapy."

"I see; Director, he's in the infirmary right now. With your leave I'd like to remain there."

After a short pause, Lorenzo waved his hand dismissing the now officially christened agent. With each deliberate step, Nyromi unconsciously made her very presence felt. It was as if her soul had died on the floor of that conference room and there it lay waiting to be retrieved.

"Dr. Bianchi," Director Lorenzo called.

"Yes; Director," Bianchi answered.

"Next time, please use a bit of discretion in your experiments."

"But…I was just."

"Bianchi that was an order, he is the only prototype we have and therefore we can't lose him. Remember there are parts of him that are still…human."

"I…I understand sir."

* * *

Walking back down the hallway to the infirmary room, Nyromi passed the sole medic and nurse within the facility. Both women had tear-streaked faces as they walked by. Arriving at the room, Nyromi stopped just short of the door to hear a man speaking inside. Peeking around the corner, Nyromi eyed Dr. Gianncomo on his knees beside Alpha's bed.

"God, I know I don't talk to you much. In fact, I've devoted my life to proving that mankind doesn't need your miracles. But I have but one request in all the years of my life. If you are there and you are listening –sniff- please let this innocent come though unharmed. He is only a child, and…he deserves so much more than he's received. Please, grant this one wish. I beg it of you."


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Notes:**__**Nyromi's lullaby is a modified form of **__**Hello Tomorrow**__** written by Spike Jonze. It is the result of a habit of mine; where if I like a song but don't know the lyrics, I'll make up my own.**_

_**The reference to the Italian EEZ stands for the Economic Exclusion Zone as written in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. It is also known as the International Law of the Sea.**_

**XVIII**

Slowly opening his eyes, Alpha took a long glance around. The first thing he noticed was that he was not in his room the next was that the sun had raised to its mid-noon height. Alarmed at the time, Alpha attempted to rise out of bed, but quickly lay back down after clutching his head. The throbbing in his head was strong and constant forcing him to attempt to climb under his pillow as he curled into a fetal position. After catching his breath, he noticed someone was in the room with him. Peeking out from the safety of his pillow, Alpha saw Nyromi with her arms folded down upon the bed and resting her head upon them. With her eyes slightly ajar, she smiled as those eyes welled up with tears.

"Good morning; sleepy-head," Nyromi said as she wiped one tear.

"I…I'm sorry; 'Omi," Alpha answered slowly.

"…For what?"

"I…I missed this morning's session."

Laughing for a minute, Nyromi gazed once more on the boy and nodded in acquiescence.

"Your apology is noted and accepted…soldier," Nyromi said.

Suddenly, like a jolt to her soul, Nyromi remembered what Dr. Gianncomo had said about possible memory loss. Sitting up, Nyromi looked Alpha in the eyes.

"Alpha, are you aware that you're in the infirmary?"

"Just right now, I mean, when I woke up I was."

"I see, do you know why you're here?"

"No, not really."

"O…okay.

Nyromi labored before asking her next question.

"Do you remember what happened at the University?"

Alpha curled up again without answering Nyromi.

"Al?" Nyromi said. As she reached over, Alpha turned over avoiding Nyromi's touch.

"I…don't want to!" Al said surprising Nyromi with his ferocity.

Pulling back her hand, Nyromi sat back again.

"You _don't want to_… what, Al?"

"I don't want to remember! I don't want to go back to the university!"

"It's okay Al, you don't have to."

Peeking over to Nyromi, Alpha looked at her with swollen eyes.

"…Promise?"

"Yes, Al. I promise, forever and ever."

Crawling over to Nyromi, Alpha wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into her chest.

"It hurt 'Omi, it hurt really bad."

"I know; it's okay now. You'll never have to go there again. Not so long as I'm here."

Cradling the child in her arms, she let him take comfort in her embrace just as she took comfort in his.

"He's awake…" said the nurse as she dropped the tray of medications. "Doctor…!" she cried sprinting down the hallway.

Pulling himself away from Nyromi, he looked up at her in curiosity.

"What was here problem 'Omi?"

"You've been asleep for a good while Al."

"For how long"

"…Four days. You've been asleep for four days."

"I…I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault child, now lay back down. Dr. Gianncomo will be here any minute."

No sooner than a minute later, Giacomo sprinted into the room trying to hold back the tears in his eyes. After performing a brief checkup, Giacomo gave the boy a big hug which Alpha returned in kind.

"So, aside from the headache there is nothing else that feels funny?" Giacomo asked.

"No, not really Professor; except that I feel really stiff."

"Don't worry _bambino_; that is typical for prolonged sleep. As soon as you start moving around, that'll go away in a day at most."

"Okay, Giacomo."

"So, I'll give you an acetaminophen for the headache and keep you here until tomorrow morning." Looking toward Nyromi Giacomo asked, "Is that okay?"

"Of course Doctor," Nyromi answered. "May I still stay here with him?"

"I don't see why not. Normally, we'd keep you awake for twenty-four hours; but I think I short nap should be fine."

"Okay," Nyromi and Alpha said together.

"Here's your aspirin, _bambino_."

"Thanks Giacomo," Alpha responded before swallowing the small capsule.

"See you in a few hours."

As Alpha laid his head down on his pillow he looked over at Nyromi with concern in his eyes.

"What's wrong Al?" Nyromi asked recognizing the worry.

"I…'Omi, I'm scared."

"Of what dear boy?"

"I'm scared that I'll wake up and I'll be back at the university."

"I promise a million times, you'll never have to go back to the university. I promise on my life, okay?"

"Okay, 'Omi."

"I know, when I couldn't sleep, my dad used to sing to me. Would you like me to sing to you?"

"Please…"

"Okay, now lay back."

Stroking his hair, Nyromi began a dirge that her father had passed to her. Although her knowledge of the Roma language was limited, she modified the lullaby a bit to suit her translation.

_Whenever I wake up_

_I try to make the shapes up_

_Take me to the whole wide world I made up._

_That light is golden_

_Beckoning me, now I jump up_

_The twilight is catching me_

_Cradling me; saying I must wake up_

_Don't tell me 'bout the daylight_

_I want to see the moonlight_

_Take me to the whole wide world I made up_

_Baby I know you're thinking of me_

_It's you I love my only_

_I'm giving you this whole wide world I made up._

After the final verse, Alpha was sound asleep. Leaning back in her chair, Nyromi looked over to the end table at the folder she had prepared.

'It can wait another day,' Nyromi thought with disdain at the upcoming assignment.

* * *

Despite Alpha's hospitalization, the assignment for the following week had not changed. Whether with or without Alpha, Nyromi would be going in and she felt that much better with her partner than without. After Alpha's release from the infirmary, the _fratello_ returned to their usual routine of talking over a new assignment over breakfast.

"I don't like this Al," Nyromi started as she buttered an english muffin. "I really don't."

"Can't we get a blueprint or at least a floor plan of the center citadel…here," Alpha added before pointing to the building in the aerial photographs.

"No can do, that island lies four nautical miles outside of the Italian EEZ. Even if it doesn't reach beyond the continental shelf, it is officially outside of Italian Municipal Jurisdiction. That Senator doesn't even have to pay taxes."

"Can't you call NATO for some information?" Alpha asked as he ate a big helping of potatoes.

"Al, I…I'm not in NATO anymore."

"…Oh…okay."

"Well, what else do you see?"

"You mean, aside from this place being a fortress?"

"Yes; exactly that."

"Not much 'Omi. Judging by the shadow here, those walls have to be at least twenty feet high."

"The only real info I've got on that place is receipts for services done to _retrofit_ the place up to modern standards."

"It looks like their only true weakness is a lack of manpower."

"How so?"

"Unless their all packed in the citadel, I only see a few personnel along these banquettes."

"Or they could be underneath the compound itself."

"What do you mean?"

"Looking at the architecture of the place, I can see it was built as a military fortification sometime in the 18th century. Those places are notorious for having multiple underground passages; some can even be classified as catacombs. In any case it isn't exactly your average luxurious manor."

"So there's no feasible way of landing inside the place is there."

"…None that I can see."

"What if we airdrop into the ocean and swim for the coastline?"

"That would work, but if we time it wrong we'll be swept out to sea."

"Risk big, win big; right?"

"I guess," Nyromi said with a giggle. "But even if we get inside, my main concern has always been the interior.

"Guess we'll just have to make it up as we go."

"Pretty much, but it feels like we're going to be blind when we get there. Al, I really don't like this."

After breakfast Alpha and Nyromi made their way towards the Agent's Quarters. Walking side by side, Alpha noticed that he was getting more attention than usual.

"Nyromi, why is everybody looking at me like that?" Alpha asked.

"You've had the compound in a ruckus, Al. Once it got around that you were in the infirmary; everybody wanted to know what happened, what was happening, and why."

"Oh, really?"

"By the way, today we have a day off. You're going to need that time to rearrange your room a bit."

"Why?"

"You'll see when you get there," Nyromi smiled as Al opened the door to his room.

What greeted him was a assortment of balloons, stuffed animals, and gifts.

"'Omi…w…where did…?"

"I hear it's an Italian tradition. When a family child is sick or injured the whole family will pull together. Like it or not, you're this places baby."

"Um, thank you."

"I'll tell them you said so. Now go on, have fun."


	19. Chapter 19

_**DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence**_

_**Author's Notes: **__A balisong is also referred to as a butterfly knife._

_OSP is a military acronym referring to an operation parameter known as On-Site Procurement_

_Speed shooting is a unique 'quick-draw technique' where the shooter initiates trigger-pull before aiming. This technique is typically used in close-range._

**XIX**

"Agent Omega?" the co-pilot called to Nyromi.

"Check," Nyromi answered as she knelt into a crouch.

"Agent Alpha?"

"Check," Alpha answered before crouching himself.

"Go; in three, two,…"

With the last count being a single hand motion; Omega back-rolled out of the drop hatch in the floor of the small airplane with Alpha and their equipment following soon after.

The mission specifics were loose at best, but played well into Alpha and Omega's notoriously improvised tactics. They were to drop into the ocean approximately one mile from the island their target was located. As they swam with the current toward the island; Jean Croce and Mauricio Angelo were to ride a 'beacon boat' around the island for a time in order to distract whatever guards stood in the turrets and act as retrieval after the mission's completion. This would allow t_he Fratello_ to enter the compound unnoticed, hopefully.

After reaching the shore, Alpha and Omega shed their wetsuits revealing Alpha in black tactical gear and Omega in her signature sneaking suit. Handing one case to Alpha, Omega quickly opened hers and began assembling a Parker-Hale M85 rifle.

"Omi'," Alpha began as he tied a bandana around his hair, "why couldn't I bring my Winchester?"

"Tonight we need stealth above all else child."

"Is that why you don't have a sidearm?"

"This," Nyromi said after taking her Fairburn-Sykes commando blade out of the case, "has always been sidearm enough for me. Haven't I told you enough times?"

"Okay; 'Omi," Alpha said with a tone of wariness as Nyromi took out two flash grenades and a gas-operated grappling gun.

Among Alpha's equipment were had a silenced CZ75, a military-grade balisong, and a collapsible baton among other necessities. Any other equipment he might need, Alpha would have to pick up on the way as per his OSP training.

"Alpha, repeat the objectives to me." Nyromi said as she tightened the suppressor on her rifle.

"We will enter the Southeast turret and use that as our infiltration point."

"…Then?"

"You will cover me from the turret as I walk along the banquettes and eliminate any opposition within the remaining turrets, after that is phase 2."

"Correct," Nyromi finished as she shouldered her rifle. "Are you ready?"

"Ante up."

Running between the natural stones of the island, Alpha and Omega approached the wall without being noticed.

"Looks like Jean is doing a decent job," Nyromi muttered under her breath.

Standing directly under the Southeast turret, Nyromi fired the grappling hook, the diamond tipped spike embedding itself into the old stone. After clipping the gun to a waist harness, she called Alpha over where Alpha stood on top of Nyromi's feet. Flicking the retraction lever, Nyromi and Alpha ascended the turret stopping just short of the ledge. Taking a flash grenade, she threw it inside the turret. Alpha then climbed into the turret and eliminated the three guards. Lending a hand to the side, Alpha hoisted Nyromi into the turret.

A moment later, a telephone rang against the wall alarming the _Fratello_. Walking over to the phone, Nyromi kicked one of the guards on her way. Taking a small device out of her front pocket, she put it in her mouth before picking up the phone.

"Ciao," Nyromi answered in a very brusque voice that surprised even Alpha.

"What's going on over there?" the man over the receiver asked. "What was that light?"

"That idiot Luciano tried to juggle some flash bangs and dropped one."

Looking down at the body Nyromi had turned over, Alpha noticed the name badge.

"That moron, I swear. I'm reporting him this time, but give him a kick in the ass for me."

"Yes, sir; we'll enjoy another round at this idiot. Excuse us if we miss the next check-in."

"Ha, you do that. Save some for me as well."

Hanging up the phone, Nyromi took out the device and placed it in her pocket.

"What was that?" Alpha asked

"Just something I kept from my SIS days."

"Wow."

"Stay low, run fast; okay?"

"Yes 'Omi."

"Take them out clockwise," Nyromi said taking her rifle in hand she setup her bipod against the turret opening facing the mansion. "Use the east wall to get to the ground."

"Roger."

Running off towards the southwest turret Alpha made a point to stay in the shadow as much as possible. The lack of light along the walls aided in this as Alpha simply stepped into the turret and began firing. Using _speed shooting_, Alpha met with no resistance. Putting one in the head of each guard to assure they wouldn't get up, Alpha loaded a new magazine in the CZ and ran for the next turret in sequence.

"Southwest turret secure," Alpha said into his com in mid stride. "I'm approaching the northwest installation."

"Roger," Nyromi responded.

With the mansion blocking her view of the northwest turret, she couldn't offer him any cover should the worse occur. Despite their initial success, Nyromi still felt uneasy about the entire mission. It was almost as if this initial infiltration had been _too easy_. A few shots rang over her earpiece along with something that sounded like the crushing of some poor soul's trachea. Taking a breath, Nyromi waited patiently for her ward's report.

"Omega," Alpha called over his com. "Northwest turret is secure."

"Move within twenty meters of the northeast turret and wait for my signal."

"And the signal…?"

"You'll know it."

Moving along the wall of the banquette, Alpha crouched at the assumed twenty meter mark and waited.

"Holding position at designation," Alpha said into his com.

"Confirmed," Nyromi said as she took aim with her rifle.

Noticing one guard was standing facing the mansion from his turret opening, Nyromi took aim and fired. When Alpha saw one the guards sliding across the floor on his back, he leapt up before rushing for the turret. Using the same speed and accuracy as with the previous attacks, all of the guards were dead before they could obtain arms. Taking a deep breath, Alpha looked around at his work.

"Omega," Alpha began, "Last turret secured."

"Affirmative," Nyromi responded. "Get to ground level, but don't use the stairs."

"Check."

Alpha crouched against the east banquette while he looked for a method of possibly rappelling down the high wall. The boy struck gold when he found a series of wooden planks. Flipping his balisong, Alpha threw it at the wooden planks where it stuck firm. Attaching the carabiner of his zip-line to the grommet at the end of his balisong Alpha quickly rappelled down the wall. Setting his feet on the ground, Alpha gave the line a couple of sharp tugs before his blade came following him.

"Alpha!" Nyromi said with urgency. "Down, now."

Quickly taking cover behind a patch of shrubs, Alpha waited there while he put away his balisong.

"Hostile confirmed; Omega," Alpha said as he saw the guard casually walk by the patch of shrubs before lighting a cigarette. Judging from his careless gait and the way he held his gun, Alpha was sure he was a trained amateur at best.

"Ready the _smash and grab_," Nyromi ordered Alpha as she took aim.

"Check," Alpha responded as he prepared himself to sprint.

A few tense moments passed as he waited for her call.

"Go," Nyromi said as she squeezed the trigger.

Looking over to the emerging Alpha, the guard never noticed the .308 cartridge rip through his temple. Just as the guard was to fall, he fell right onto Alpha. Running into the guard, Alpha lifted him just enough to carry him to another patch of shrubs surrounding the mansion. Depositing the body on the ground, Alpha crouched awaiting further intel from Nyromi.

"Alpha," Nyromi began, "there is a partially open window three floors above your position. Do you see it?"

"Confirmed," Alpha answered after spotting the window.

"There seems to be four guards on patrol in a constant circle around the citadel. The one we eliminated created a gap that I don't think they've noticed yet. Wait for my signal before scaling the wall."

"Roger."

A few minutes passed, with the adrenaline coursing through his body Alpha became on edge from staying in his crouched stance. Waiting for his 'Omi to set him free, Alpha took to tapping his hand against the brick walls of the mansion.

"Go, now!" Nyromi said setting Alpha off against the wall.

Using an unorthodox climbing technique, Alpha pushed off with both feet at the same time before finding handhold only to push off with both feet simultaneously again. In less than a minute, Alpha was through the window and inside of the mansion.

"Omega," Alpha called over his com, "infiltration successful."

"Roger," Nyromi answered. "The target most likely will be on the top floor of the mansion. According to the work orders, there should be a single corridor leading to the master bedroom. If that fails work your way down and avoid being seen."

"Check."

"Until you confirm the elimination of the target, we're going radio-silent."

"Affirmative, Omega. I'll wake you when the party's over."

"…Smart-ass."

Taking a look around the compound with her scope, Nyromi could chuckle a bit now that the mission was half over. Yet, she asked herself why she couldn't shake this feeling of foreboding.

* * *

Underneath the mansion, two men readied their weapons.

"Are you sure there are intruder's within the perimeter, Captain Demetrius?" a guard said as he pocketed two magazines for an H&K MP5A3.

"Absolutely; Leo," said the Captain as he procured magazines for a Glock 17Pro. "For starters, since when have I issued flash grenades, ever?"

* * *

The climb up the mansion was quite uneventful compared for Alpha compared to his actions getting in. There were quite a few guards, but Alpha's small body and flexibility made it easy for him to hide in nooks and crannies. The only problem was the staircase. Most mansions have one single continuous staircase that connected to all of the floors. With ten floors of mansion and a fort around that, the Senator had an anal-attentive sense of security. This mansion had a complex series of staircases where each floor only connected to the one before it.

Climbing the stairs to the top floor annex, Alpha looked around the corner to find a small lobby, a single corridor and at its end, a double door. At those double doors were two armed guards making things a tad inconvenient. Taking a minute to mull over a possible takedown method, Alpha improvised a plan.

"Psst," Alpha said as he knocked against the lobby wall.

After a brief bout of arguing, one of the guards shouldered his MP5 and walked toward the lobby. Crouching as far down as he could, Alpha flipped out his balisong and waited. After a minute the guard walked into the lobby and looked around. Despite Alpha being at his feet, the guard completely missed him by neglecting to simply look down. When the guard turned his back to the boy, Alpha leaped onto the guards back and buried his knife in the guard's throat a second later. Giving a firm twist provoked the tell-tale death rattle he had come so accustomed to hearing.

Propping himself against the wall with his feet, Alpha managed to keep the deceased guard standing in order to maneuver the guards arm in a wave. After hearing the sound of boot steps, Alpha dropped the guard and flung himself over the stairway balcony, catching himself with one hand on the edge. After the guard saw his comrade on the floor, he reached for his com until Alpha gave him an extension to his mouth. Pulling himself onto the lobby again, Alpha walked over to the guard as he tried desperately to hold his jaw together. Another shot to his head, ended the guards misery.

Walking to the double doors, Alpha loaded his last cartridge in his CZ75. Opening the doors Alpha walked in expecting a surprised Senator, frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. What he found instead, was a Senator dressed in a robe and armed with a .357 revolver, and said revolver pointed at him.

"I didn't want to believe somebody would invade my home," the elderly Senator said. "But Demetrius Ricci has never failed me before."

Alpha stood there in silence as he stared down the revolver.

"Throw your gun away," the Senator ordered which Alpha complied.

Looking down at his would-be assassin, the Senator couldn't believe his eyes.

"How…how many have you killed little boy?"

Alpha continued to stand there staring up at the revolver with apparent indifference.

"Who sent you? Was it the Mafioso or the damned Republics? Tell me child, I want to know who could create a monster such as you."

"…The Chrysalis Foundation," Alpha muttered.

"The…the home that I championed for the underprivileged?" the Senator said in shock as his hand began to shake uncontrollably. "I…it was supposed to be a scho…"

The Senator never got the chance to finish his statement as Alpha grabbed his arm and flung the elderly man to the floor. Giving his arm a wrench causing the Senator to drop his revolver, Alpha put his foot to the Senator's neck and pushed down until he heard a snap. In an instant the tension in the old Senator's arm disappeared and Alpha let it fall to the floor. Closing his eyes, Alpha took a great breath and held it as he raised his head to the ceiling. Opening his eyes slowly, Alpha let out his held breath before turning his com on.

"Omega," Alpha called. "Mission success, target eliminated."

"Well done," answered Nyromi. "Began extraction procedure, we'll rendezvous at the Northern coastline…"

"Omega?" Alpha asked a minute after Nyromi cut off. "Omega, respond."

The minute of silence seemed to make his heart stop as if he was holding her, but she felt as if she was slipping away.

"Al, get out of he…"


	20. Chapter 20

**XX**

"Mission success, target eliminated."

"Well done," answered Nyromi as she leaned away from her rifle's scope. "Began extraction procedure, we'll rendezvous at the Northern coast…line…"

In the faint reflection of her lens, Nyromi saw a floor hatch behind her.

"Omega?" Alpha asked a minute after Nyromi cut off. "Omega, respond."

A moment later a barrel poked out of the slight opening. With a tear falling slowly down the side of her cheek, the sound of her ward's slightly panicked voice made Nyromi's heart race all the more.

"Al," she finally whispered as if to feign confidence. "…Get out of here."

Not a moment later, a burst erupted from the open floor hatch prompting Nyromi to abandon her rifle as it fell to the ground below after taking a few rounds. Taking cover within the shadows, Nyromi knew that she was all but cornered. The faint glint of moonlight revealed the barrel of an H&K MP5 as its wielder scanned the turret for any sign of movement. Fingering the handle of her blade, Nyromi considered taking a literal shot in the dark at the possible location of the gunman's head, but then thought better of it as she considered the possibility of more than one gunman and certainly more than one gun.

Taking a moment to catch her breath and steady her senses, Nyromi noticed the trickle of blood making its way down her neck. Feeling the area with her right hand, Nyromi fought back a wince at the touch of exposed cartilage. With the sound of gunfire echoing from the mansion, Nyromi's attention changed to the fallen remnants of her earpiece as a single exposed wire grazed the nape of her neck. And the loud silence it produced.

Making a vain attempt at focusing on her immediate dilemma; Nyromi couldn't help but shed a few tears for the unknown condition of her ward.

* * *

Shooting two more guards, Alpha continued to sprint down the hallway.

"Omega; respond!" Alpha yelled into his com as he took cover from a volley. "God dammit 'Omi, this isn't funny!"

The brief noise of automatic fire was the last sound he had heard from his partner's end before hearing nothing at all. Although protocol reasoned that Alpha follow his superior's orders, there was more than a few occurrences where Nyromi could have left him behind, but she never had. Taking a fragmentation grenade he had acquired from one of his kills, Alpha pulled the pin and released the clip before giving it a side-arm toss down the corridor. Waiting behind cover, Alpha covered his ears as he waited for the blast. A moment after the grenade's detonation, Alpha took his acquired MP5 in hand and sprinted down the corridor putting bullets in the face of anything that moved.

* * *

Breathing softly, Nyromi waited for any opportunity against the waiting gunman. The wall opening was a possibility, but setting up rappelling equipment would give away her position only too well and simply leaping out was close enough to suicide.

There were entrances at both sides of the turret, but running for either one would not only give away her position, but make for an easy to shoot silhouette. Going on the offensive had always remained possible, but there wasn't enough light for a knife-throw and she would throw away the only weapon she had left to her. A distraction might be feasible, but she would need a distraction to give her the second or two needed to get into and around the doorway. Taking a pebble in hand, Nyromi tossed it at the opposite end of the turret before making a break for the closest entrance. The gunman armed with the MP5 fired in the direction of the pebbles landing, but his partner was not as easily fooled as he began firing shots from his Glock 17 at the silhouette and managed to strike Nyromi in her ankle effectively severing her calcaneal tendon.

Answering her muffled cry, the gunman armed with the MP5 fired burst after burst at Nyromi. Quickly raising her arms to cover her head, the 9mm rounds pelted her unprotected arms and legs before finally hitting the floor. The impact from rounds embedded in her Kevlar-covered torso left Nyromi struggling for breath. A moment later, the entrance to the floor hatch swung open.

* * *

Reaching the center of the mansion, Alpha took a peek over the balcony and caught a glimpse at the series of balconies that extended from the top to the floor level below. From the first sight of the muzzle flash, Alpha took cover from the latest assault from H&K MP5's and various pistols. Taking two grenades from the closest fallen guard, Alpha re-armed the MP5 he carried and took a Glock in addition to the one he had already procured. Pulling the pin and clip from one grenade, Alpha tossed it over the side as he stepped back into the corridor. Kneeling in a rocket-start position, Alpha put the pin of the grenade in his mouth and left it hanging as he bit down. The second of waiting lasted what seemed to be minutes as he felt ever heart beat and lingered on every breath.

Using the explosion as his stating whistle, Alpha sprinted toward the balcony before jumping onto the wooden rail and pushing off with one foot. Gliding skyward toward the ceiling, Alpha finally landed on the grand crystal chandelier. Pulling the pin and releasing the clip with his free hand, Alpha stuffed the grenade into the center before pushing away in order to free fall into the center vertical corridor. Pulling out a Glock with his right hand, Alpha fired unceasingly at the balconies as counted the balconies. Moments later, the grenade detonated prompting Alpha to toss the guns away as he rolled to his right. Alpha stuck out his hands to catch the second floor balcony rail and using the inertia provided by his decent, swung himself up onto the balcony slaying the sole guard there as he landed.

After pulling the slain guard on top of himself, Alpha could hear screams of fear and agony as hot shards of crystal punished the confused and foolishly curious. The cries of pain were accentuated by a great crash as the chandelier touched down in the center of the lobby just below the series of balconies. Alpha pushed his _shield_ to the side before springing onto his feet. With one glance toward the entrance, Alpha took cover again as a small contingent still held their ground at the mansion's main entrance. Looking over at his former shield, Alpha found the tell-tale grenades that had become his signature weapon during this excursion. Running over to the fallen guard, Alpha pulled both pins and clips before grabbing the guard by his belt and in a single, fluid motion; tossed the corpse in the direction of the entrance before laying flat on the floor and covering his ears. The guard's corpse landed with a –thud- before skidding to a stop in front of the guards.

"Gren…!" one guard managed before the grenades detonated.

With the main entrance now clear, Alpha slid down the banister before jumping off halfway and sprinting for the exit. Eying the staircase closest to the southeast turret, Alpha hoped beyond hope that his 'Omi was alright.

* * *

"Don't move bitch," Captain Ricci said as he pressed the Glock 17 pistol to Nyromi's forehead.

"Well, I'll be damned," Leo quipped as the moonlight revealed more of the turret. "It's a god-damned Gypsy and a cute one too."

"Have you ever tasted Gypsy, Leo?"

"No Captain I haven't. How does Gypsy taste?"

"Like sweet brandy wine."

Running his hands along Nyromi's side; Leo found Nyromi's Fairburn-Sykes blade.

"Hey, Captain; take a look at this!"

"Is that a replica or maybe a recreation?" Captain Ricci asked as he took the blade from Leo and looked it over. Acknowledging the serial number with the aid of a pen light, "It's not a replica; this bitch is SAS."

"Don't they usually operate in pairs?"

A moment later, the signature sound of the detonation of a grenade could be heard in the direction of the mansion.

"Not anymore," Captain Ricci said before sharing a laugh with Leo. "It looks like her _friend_ isn't going to make it."

"Do you hear that Gypsy?" Leo chided in as he lowered himself to one knee. "Now, you're all alone."

Leaning close to Nyromi, Leo looked into her pale violet eyes with a fiendish grin.

"And now," Leo began, "we're going to take our sweet time with you."

In a moment of desperate spite, Nyromi summoned all her remaining strength and snapped her head forward, colliding her cranium with Leo's face. Captain Ricci gave Nyromi a swift, powerful kick to the side of her head landing the injured specialist in a perpetual daze as she struggled to maintain consciousness.

"You okay; Leo," Captain Ricci asked his subordinate after giving Nyromi another kick in reassurance.

"She…she broke my fucking nose!" Leo answered as he lay cradling the bleeding mass of cartilage as it bled profusely.

"That's it bitch," Captain Ricci said as he took Nyromi's blade in hand and knelt down beside her. "You really have to admire these German made sneaking suits; they really are top-of-the-line. Though if memory serves, they have a small weakness, tiny in fact; a small area where the upper and lower Kevlar plates meet, just above the groin…_here_."

Driving the blade into Nyromi's lower belly, Captain Ricci smirked as Nyromi jerked despite her resistance to do so. After burying the blade to the hilt, Captain Ricci grinned as he removed the blade at a slow, languid pace. Freeing the knife from her belly at last, Captain Ricci ran his tongue along the flat of the blade as if to add insult to her latest injury.

"Sweet," Captain Ricci whispered before tossing the blade away. "Leo, she's ready now."

Sharing his Captain's wide grin, Leo laid down his MP5 and unbuckled his belt. Looking back at Nyromi, Captain Ricci used the tear he had made in the sneaking suit to open an adequate enough rip to expose Nyromi.

"You're such a gracious superior; Captain," Leo said as he unbuttoned his fatigues.

"Aren't I though?" Captain Ricci replied as he and Leo erupted in cynical laughter.

Backing off so that Leo could position himself on top of Nyromi, Captain Ricci laughed once more as his subordinate ran his tongue along the side of Nyromi's face. Despite her vigilance in keeping attention on her wounds, Nyromi couldn't hide her disgust.

"You were right Captain; they do taste sweet," Leo said with a chuckle.

"Told you," Captain Ricci replied as he pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his front pouch pocket.

"Are you ready Gypsy?" Leo quipped as he mentally prepared himself. "Viva Ital…"

Leo stopped short of finishing his final insult as he felt cold metal slide off his back.

"Captain?" Leo inquired as he saw his superior fall to his knees.

Leo gasped in shock as Captain Ricci clutched at his throat with blood seeping between his fingers. Now in a sheer state of panic, Leo dove for his MP5. With the scraping of the magazine along the stone floor, Leo heard three suppressed shots as his final calling striking his shoulder, neck, and finally; his temple. Walking from behind the far turret entrance, Alpha emerged in the image of a black clothed child of death as he stalked the still gasping Captain Ricci. Pushing away with his feet, Captain Ricci backed himself against the turret wall as he fumbled with his pistol. Once he finally had a finger on the trigger, all Captain Ricci could do was fire an errant shot at the ground before Alpha emptied his magazine into various parts of Captain Ricci's face.

"'Omi," Alpha called holstering the CZ75 as he knelt beside his fallen partner.

"I'm hurt; Alpha," Nyromi answered in barely a whisper. "I'm hurt really bad."

"I…I took care of them 'Omi," Alpha said as he tried to fight back tears.

"I never meant you to be a replacement to my brother. You were just my new little brother, you were my Alpha. Go on, leave me here."

"N…no; we go in together, we come out together. Isn't that what you said?"

"...Ever since the Milan job, but this is different Al. There's nothing you can do, I can't even climb down the rope to the shore. Just leave…"

"…No! I don't want you talking like that! Y…you're going to be okay."

Looking for the pack they came up with, Alpha quickly found it and took out a small transponder. Turning it on and clipping it to his collar, Alpha then turned to Nyromi and picked her up with a slight grunt.

"Al," Nyromi said as loud as she was able at the sight of Alpha's injuries and especially the fairly deep gashes along his left arm and shoulder. "Y…your arm, what happened?"

"Just some glass and a few bullet grazes, hold on to me 'Omi. It'll be better once we get into the ocean. The cold water will slow down the bleeding and numb the pain, right?"

"R…right," 'Omi whispered as she shed tears for her injured ward. Knowing that she encouraged his stubbornness, she knew that he wouldn't have gone to extraction despite her orders and for that she blamed herself for Alpha's injuries.

As Nyromi held on tightly to Alpha's neck, the boy took great care to slide down slowly using one hand to hold the rope with his feet using the wall as a brake when he needed as the other hand was occupied in making sure that Nyromi was firmly secured.

"It'll be okay now; 'Omi," Alpha said as he placed both feet on the sand before carrying Nyromi into the ocean. "We're almost home."

Once in the water, Nyromi shifted to holding on to Alpha neck from behind as the boy waded out to sea in Italy's direction. Upon hearing the speedboat come close, Alpha let loose with a sigh of relief. Grabbing a hold of the ladder, Alpha climbed up halfway until Jean looked over to the side.

"Jean; help me," Alpha called to his superior. "She's hurt; she can't climb up by herself."

After watching Nyromi elicit a slight fight of coughing accented with blood-filled phlegm, Jean firmly grabbed a hold of Alpha's flak jacket.

"Leave her," Jean commanded, "she's not going to make it."

"No, she's still alive!"

"Leave her; Agent Alpha, that is a direct order."

"No!!"

Being this close to Nyromi once more reminded Jean of the candle he still held alit for her and her alone. Thoughts and hopes of what could have been and what were invaded his mind again. Only now, these tender hopes and memories filled Jean with anger instead of regret. When he had reached out his hand in love, she reached for the hand of a child instead and in that long minute; that candle took its last breath.

'_If I can't have her, why should you?'_

Taking out his pistol, Jean aimed it at the pair and pulled the trigger. As if the world decided to cling on to this one final moment, Alpha flinched at the flash. In what seemed like seconds refusing to leave the minute, Alpha felt Nyromi's fingers slide away from his neck. In a last effort of desperation Alpha let go of the ladder and reached out for his 'Omi. Feeling a hard pull from behind, Alpha only managed to wrap his fingers around Nyromi's medallion as it hung in the air. As the thin chain broke free of its owner, Nyromi quickly disappeared beneath the waves of the high tide.

_'Hello Miss Lautani; I'm Joaquin Solomon and I'm very pleased to meet you.'_

_'Lieutenant Nyromi Lautani, likewise.'_

Despite the fact that the boy still drew breath, Alpha felt as if his entire life was playing before his very eyes.

_'Now, eat up. You're a growing boy after all.'_

From the day they first met to this very moment, Alpha's entire mind remained suspended in disbelief.

_'We go in together, we come out together. I don't ever want to hear of you even thinking that I'm going to leave you behind.'_

With a final crash of waves against the speed boat, Alpha finally felt himself flying backwards.

_'I love you Al, you'll always be my little brother.'_

Landing against the hard metal deck of the government-issued speedboat, Alpha was greeted only by Jean's anger.

"Go," Jean called to the operative at the throttle. With a nod, they were off once more for the coast of Italy. Soon Jean's attention shifted to Alpha. "Listen to _me_ you little whelp! _I_ am your superior and you are to obey _my_ orders whenever _I_ give them. Do you understand?!"

"'Omi?" was Alpha's only response as his mind attempted to catch up with reality.

"I said, do-you-understand?!"

"'Omi?!" Alpha cried again as he finally realized what had just happened.

"That's it; I've had it. Agent Alpha, _you_ are officially getting a write up."

"'Omi!!" Alpha cried once more as he attempted to dive into the ocean.

"God dammit!" Jean yelled as he barely caught Alpha in mid-leap.

Grabbing onto the side rail with his free hand, Alpha continued to cry out the name of his fallen partner. With every attempt Jean made to get Alpha secured into the boat, Alpha only made more of an effort to get into the ocean. Using his gun, Jean attempted to pistol-whip Alpha's hand in order to make him let go of the rail.

"'Omi!!" Alpha cried continuously as his focus was only on his partner.

Seeing no other alternative, Jean began to hit Alpha in the back of the head and after a few clumsy blows Alpha's resolve began to weaken. Finally falling to the deck of the boat, Jean stood up and continued to yell at Alpha.

"'O…m…i--," Alpha muttered as he attempted to climb up the side of the boat again.

Taking firm hold of the barrel of his pistol, Jean wheeled his arm back once more.


	21. Chapter 21

**XXI**

Time seemed to pass as a breath in the week following the assassination assignment given to the Alpha/Omega team. The news of Senator Marciano Nicolleta's murder at the hands of the socialist rebellion from the North swept across all media outlets with such fervor; that it enraged a nation and demonized any sympathetic sentiment to all separatist cause. Protests broke out in the north declaring their innocence in slaying the beloved Senator, as he was one of the few in power who would lend a diplomatic ear to their claim. In the bigger cities, small riots erupted as emotional tensions ran high.

With an impassioned speech, Senator Vittorio Parisi condemned the actions taken in the death of his friend and rival. Vowing to assure that such criminal activity will not go unpunished; Senator Parisi swore to launch a campaign of absolute justice to bring down any element, be it separatist or organized, having any connection to the cowardly murder of a public official. Senator Parisi would gain a great amount of support, and coupled with the sudden absence of a viable opponent, he would rise to the office of Prime Minister.

* * *

In an isolated area on Italy's western coastline, a small group of people has gathered to bid a final farewell to a fallen compatriot. A black tie affair, this was not, for they all knew that she wouldn't have wanted her funeral to be in such a manner. Instead; administration assistants, security guards, construction contractors, and the like; had opted to wear the plain clothes attire that had come to define her. As one such administrative assistant had mentioned, it made her stand out as a radiant blossom in their field of weeds. The only thing that seemed amiss was the absence of her sapling.

Meanwhile, in an isolated area of the Foundation compound, a boy sat against a concrete wall. Restraints made of hardened steel held him fast to the concrete floor. The chains attached to the restraints had been made of the same hardened material, and allowed him enough slack to crouch and kneel, but not to stand. In the few times of peace, the marks given to him by Jean would fade away a little. Yet, he would return to assure that they did not disappear completely. Alpha entertained the idea of breaking the restraints and strangling Jean, but he couldn't find the motivation. He had lost his 'Omi, his one guiding light in a world where he had lost everything before she showed him much more than what was.

* * *

Behind closed doors, groundwork was being laid and actions set in motion for a covert paramilitary wing of the government to operate under direct authorization of and total sovereignty granted from the Prime Minister himself. This new branch would serve two parts; the first section being the active branch with covert agents in the field, while the second section would serve as a charitable front much like the Chrysalis Foundation had been for the last year or so. The main difference would be a proactive stance toward the current separatist and criminal crisis as opposed to the current verbatim one buried in a mine field of politics, semantics, and paperwork.

For the few that would remain, such as Agent Olga Argonouva, the new site chosen seemed as a slap in the face of the fallen. It was scheduled to be a renovated mansion on the outskirts of Rome, seized from an 'Ndrangheta associate. An associate who had been apprehended after a raid conducted solely by Alpha and Omega when the whole of Italy's Law Enforcement Corps decided that despite the mountain of evidence they had acquired; the mansion and surrounding area were too heavily fortified, too well-manned, and too well-armed.

* * *

Within the area of dense foliage outside of Milan, Italy; the Crysalis Foundation stands quiet and alone. On a typical day this place would see bustling traffic, lively faces, and the familiar sounds of construction. Today, silence now had its reign, save for the slow and somber pace of the two remaining guards as they walked on patrol.

Lighting a cigarette for his comrade, they continued on their patrol.

"So; Ricardo," said the guard with the lighter. "Where did they all say it was being held?"

"Benny," Ricardo started after taking a drag. "Does this place feel like a graveyard to you?"

"Ricardo, tell me."

"One of the administrative assistants told everyone about where they were supposed to arrive, somewhere south on the western side of the boot."

"Makes sense, but why there instead of in a chapel."

"She wasn't Italian, and a Gypsy. Do you know of any that will facilitate a memorial for such a person?"

"No, I don't; but she was only half Gypsy wasn't she?"

"Tell that to the priest, all God's children my ass. She's done more for Italia than all of the Vatican and this is how they repay her."

"Oh, so you've heard of the rumors too?"

"Who here hasn't? There were apparently three search parties sent to recover her body, but the paperwork conveniently went missing three times. What's worse, they've already filed it away as a training accident."

"Bastards, I'd like to…"

"You're not going to do anything. Say you rough up Assistant Director Croce, or break Director Lorenzo's jaw; you'll only end up being transferred to NATO in some god-forsaken post, God knows where, and doing God knows what. In the meantime, right here at the Foundation, things will continue like they were."

"Then what would you have me do?"

"Do like I have; and request a transfer."

"And if it gets rejected?"

"Keep making requests or at least until your time in the service is up."

"I…I see, and how many have done this already?"

"At least half from what I've heard in the mess hall. The non-military personnel have also made intentions regarding resignation."

"What will happen to this place and what of the boy?"

"That is where things become complex. Those that haven't filed for transfer or intend to file for resignation have offered to take over the boy as their own ward. To watch over him in Nyromi's place as it were; but from what I can tell for now, the boy won't be doing anything dangerous for the time being."

"That's good isn't it?"

"You'd think so, but that's only because they have him locked up."

"What…why…what for?"

"Apparently, Alpha lost consciousness after being retrieved from the sea. When he came to, he began to assault Assistant Director Croce."

"Why would he do that? Alpha hasn't so much as brushed against Jean since Nyromi came to take over his training."

"…Why indeed. From what I hear, the boy outright pulverized him with merciless compassion, and he wailed like an injured pup all the while. Those that were there vary in how many men it took to pull Alpha off of Jean, but it's been no less than four."

"You don't think…"

"I do, but it is not to be mentioned. Understand?"

"Yes, I do. W…where is the boy now?"

"…He's…you didn't hear this from me, he's in the new interrogation room underneath the main building."

"They just finished outfitting that room."

"I know, the boy is that dreadful room's first resident."

"We've got to…"

"No, Benny. Not now, maybe not ever."

"But, Ricardo; he's just a bambino!"

"SISDE and the Nation of Italy do not see him that way. My family depends on the pay I get from the Army. As much as I would like to…I can't forsake my own children for him."

"D…does he at least get fed?"

"Yes…infrequently. Though, I hear that Jean frequents that room on nearly a daily basis. He takes one guard who waits by the door. The only thing he hears is grunts…from Jean."

"What is he doing to him?"

"I…I don't want to know."

* * *

Alpha ate the food given to him, but only because Nyromi wouldn't want him to be wasteful. These memories were all he had of Nyromi and they barely maintained the boy's will to live. Every time Alpha saw the silhouette of Jean coming through that open wooden door, he hoped that this would be the last time. In the nineteen days that he was held in that dismal place, Alpha wanted to die.

In only the span of two weeks, over half of the Foundation's non-temporary personnel had filed transfer requests or outright resignations in response to the treatment of little Alpha; not to mention the suspicious silence that had resulted in the wake of Nyromi's disappearance. No mission report had been filed and Assistant Director Croce declared that Nyromi had been killed in action before any search party had been deployed.

After the Administrative Assistants threatened to resign _en masse,_ Alpha was to be released from his imprisonment. In order to subvert any rumors of depleting morale and rampant insubordination, Director Lorenzo filled his rapidly emptying roster with green recruits from the NOCS, Carabinieri, and Italian military. Eager to accept the status and increased pay of working for a SISDE splinter group; these recruits were selected based on the simple fact that _they did not know any better_.

On the morning of the twentieth day, Alpha emerged from his captivity to the waiting arms of the remaining staff. No matter what meager meals were provided, the nutritional demands of his enhanced biologics showed on his now feeble and gaunt frame. The administrative assistants, the construction crew, guards, and even the kitchen staff arrived to greet him. Although he allowed the staff to shower him in attention and affection, the child stood still as if he had either forgotten or refused how to return such in kind.

Looking around, Alpha was hoping to see but a single man; if only to finish what he began. However, Jean had been given an office at SISDE headquarters to conduct his assigned recruitment duties. The official reason was to give Jean better access to the resources available, but the remaining staff knew it was to avoid another conflict between the agent and supervisor.

After the small crowd began to slowly disperse, Alpha headed for the Agent's Quarters. However, instead of approaching his room; Alpha entered Nyromi's. Upon his arrival, Alpha saw a small stack of collapsed boxes lie on the floor just inside the entrance. In a fit of anger, Alpha threw the pieces of laminated cardboard onto the grass outside. Closing the door behind him, Alpha finally looked to the bed to find Dr. Gianncomo waiting for him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Giacomo remained silent as he gazed at the child before him. Alpha returned his gaze, answering in stoic silence. Minutes passed like hours as the doctor and his adopted ward appeared to let the time do the talking for them. Then, in one slow movement, Giacomo opened his arms. Seeing this, Alpha nearly ran into Giacomo's embrace. Burying his face into the good Doctor's chest, Alpha wept for the first time in weeks.

When incarcerated, Alpha was well aware that he was being watched. Whether by Ricardo Bianchi or Jean Croce, he cared not. Alpha refused to allow them the sight of his mourning.

"H…he killed her," Alpha said as he soaked Giacomo's shirt with his tears.

"…What?" Giacomo answered.

"Jean….he killed 'Omi."

Clutching the child to his chest, Giacomo shed tears of anger at the man who had finally found a way to hurt the boy so dear to him.


	22. Chapter 22

**XXII**

"Apologies; Director," Bianchi said with Gilliani and Belgonchi behind him at his flanks. "It appears that Dr. Gianncomo won't compromise his position on the matter of shortening the _chrysalis period_ to a more desirable time frame."

"That _is_ unfortunate," Director Lorenzo stated, "especially with the christening of the new Agency on the horizon. Are you certain that he cannot be persuaded?"

"It is doubtful, sir. Considering the recent treatment of the Zero Subject, I do not believe that even a second child will sway his view."

"Hmm," Director Lorenzo muttered as he spun his chair to face the window behind him, "most unfortunate."

An awkward silence engulfed the office. The scientists in attendance shuffled their feet in fear and anticipation as Director Lorenzo's measured breathing cast an air of mooring in the atmosphere before turning around once more to face the three scientists.

"Doctor Bianchi," Lorenzo called.

"Y…yes sir," Bianchi answered.

"Do you believe you're ready?"

"If I may ask, sir. For what?"

"…To take over the Developmental Division."

Taking a minute to gather himself; Bianchi's mind ran through every preconceived notion of loyalty to Giacomo Gianncomo. The man, the scientist, as well as the work he championed and represented. Dr. Gianncomo himself had been stubborn as to the application of his work and even after he had come to accept it, he refused to compromise the integrity of such. For once, the deal with the devil was Bianchi's, and he was willing to accept. With pride swelling in his chest, Dr. Fernando Bianchi smiled at the Director before him.

"Sir," Bianchi began, "with humble gratitude, it would be on honor to fulfill such a position."

"Then the matter is settled. Dr. Gianncomo will be formally dismissed by the end of the week. Upon such a time, he'll either accept a position as a support technician or his services will no longer be required."

"As the former Assistant Director to Dr. Gianncomo; it would be only proper for me to tell him of this recent development."

"If you must," Dr. Lorenzo said. "However, I expect you to deliver the news in a way befitting Dr. Gianncomo's contributions to the project."

"I understand, sir. I will take the utmost discretion into account."

"I should certainly hope so, you three are dismissed."

* * *

Later that day, Dr. Gianncomo was in his personal laboratory observing his new techno-organic muscle tissue. Having already solved the delayed aging effect in the nano-carbon stem cell skeletal replacement procedure, he now sought the same solution in other areas of the Extranormal Project, as it had newly been christened. After crunching the numbers, Giacomo dropped his clipboard on his desk before slumping into his chair.

'Damn!' Giacomo thought. 'It's reverting to permanent stasis. I must be overlooking something. What could I possibly have missed? Joseph, if only you were here, my friend; but I hope you never know of this place.'

As Dr. Gianncomo pondered over the issue, he didn't notice Dr. Bianchi enter his laboratory.

"Dr. Gianncomo," Bianchi called as he attempted to restrain his grin, "if I can have a moment of your time?"

"If it is only a moment," Giacmomo answered. "I have to analyze this experiment to see what happened."

"Pray tell, Doctor. What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm attempting to eliminate the age regression error in the muscle tissue to accompany the developments and advancements made in the skeletal repair therapy. Everything I've done thus far has only led to age stagnation resulting in permanent stasis."

"…Permanent stasis?"

Rubbing his temple, Dr. Gianncomo scrunched his forehead in frustration.

"Yes; Bianchi," Giacomo said through gritted teeth. "Permanent stasis; as in; the subject will not age."

"So, the boy will remain a child forever?"

"No-no, he was perfect. However, the anomaly showed up when I noticed that his aging wasn't progressing, as it should have. He will still grow into an adult, but it will take much more time than what should be the typical average. By the time he reaches his twenties, he might still appear as a teen. For every step forward I take however, I am sent two leaps back. Aside from the developments made in the skeletal replacement, all of the further developments have resulted in the tissue reverting to stasis. I can see how this will benefit an adult, but what of a child?"

"I don't see why such a breakthrough should be wasted, Doctor."

Folding his arms against his chest, Giacomo looked sternly at Bianchi, growing ever more agitated.

"I did not forget our previous debate on the matter," Giacomo growled, "and my decision has not changed, nor will it waver. You mentioned something about a message?"

"Yes," Bianchi answered as his demeanor immediately perked up. "Indeed I do."

Reaching forward, Bianchi quickly removed Giacomo's ID Key card from his shirt collar.

"What the…?" Giacomo exclaimed before being interrupted by Bianchi.

"…As of this afternoon," Bianchi began, "you've been officially replaced as department head of the Development Division."

"What…why…for whom?"

"Replaced by yours truly; I assure you Doctor, your research as well as the strides and advancements made will not go to waste."

"You…you little whelp! I should've known!"

"I personally will make certain that you are adequately compensated should you choose to leave the project Doctor."

"I'll go to the Director and see what he has to say about this."

"Giacomo; Director Lorenzo is the one who ordered the change in command."

Leaning against his chair, Giacomo could hear the truth in Bianchi's voice as the steady self-assuredness in his tone spoke volumes.

"I told you; Giacomo," Bianchi spoke as he began to light embers in the good doctor. "Why couldn't you play the game? Why couldn't you just tow the line?"

"One Faustian contract is enough…boy," Giacomo said as he clenched and unclenched his fists. His body and mind in perpetual turmoil as Giacomo conflicted over restraint and desire.

"It…it didn't have to be this way."

"No," Giacomo replied suddenly going into an eerie state of calm. "No, it most certainly did not."

"I…I'll get you an assistant's clearance," Bianchi trailed off.

Slowly shifting his gaze to the floor, Dr. Fernando Bianchi could not meet the eyes of the man he had come to regard as mentor. Feeling more regret than shame, Bianchi's drive for ambition quickly drove these thoughts from his mind. Surprised by the lack of a figure before him, Bianchi looked around frantically before finding Giacomo at the door.

"Giacomo," Bianchi called, "wait."

"It's your lab now. Don't let me get in your way…boss."

Making purposeful strides to the stairs, Giacomo avoided the glances of even his most trusted colleagues. Arriving in his room, Giacomo softly closed the door before resting his head against the jamb. With tears fast approaching, the reality of his current situation became all the more apparent. In a final fit of anger, Giacomo turned quickly and reeled back his fist before burying it into the nearest wall.

"Never again," Giacomo whispered under his breath. "Never again…"

* * *

The following days were sparsely different than those of the previous weeks. With the exception of the SISDE personnel, the ranks of the Chrysalis Foundation continued to dwindle only to be quickly replaced with the young, wide-eyed, and ignorant. Rumors and stories regarding the exploits of _The Fratello_ had long circulated through Italy's various agencies. Knowing that the dynamic duo was no longer in service had also spread throughout the compound.

Feeling that they had been embarrassed enough times by the pair, the new recruits took to bullying Alpha. Many of the remaining emergency personnel quickly came to his defense whenever possible, but unfortunately they could not watch him consistently. Alpha maintained an indifferent demeanor ever since being released from his captivity. The hazing that he would endure did little to change this. As a result, the atmosphere of the Foundation further deteriorated into day-to-day listlessness. A few exceptions were most noticeable, but only for the reason that they broke completely with the previous routine.

Dr. Gianncomo, now lead assistant to Dr. Bianchi, transformed into a veritable camp follower much to the frustration of Dr. Bianchi and the rest of the research staff. Making comments such as '_ask the boss_' and '_its Bianchi's lab_'; Dr. Gianncomo defiantly refused to give any input toward further development of the Extranormal Project.

Despite the administration's refusal to give her authority over the child, Agent Olga Argonouva took it upon herself to be the child's _de facto_ guardian. She would take him on short trips and give him gifts on occasion along with the normal attention she doted upon him, but she was scarcely able to break through Alpha's barrier. Also, Olga's normally stoic demeanor turned outright violent upon witnessing the cruel treatment delivered upon Alpha by the new recruits. Unfortunately, with her increasing workload taking up ever more of her time, these moments became increasingly few and far between.

* * *

Walking with his tray to the empty table, Alpha blankly ate his meal. Focusing on no particular portion, the boy moved around his food, more so to pass the time than to get his fill. Moments later, a small mound of mashed potatoes landed on his right forearm. Looking at the mound with indifference, Alpha brushed it off before returning to his tray. No sooner than a minute had passed before another mound of food landed on the side of Alpha's face. After taking a bite of his own food; Alpha wiped off the food with his sleeve.

At a table about two meters distance; three members of the new personnel giggled like schoolgirls at the subtle pranks being played on the child.

"Watch this," said one of the men. "I bet I can get it in his eye."

Placing his finger against the head of his spoon, the new agent pulled back slightly before his hand was yanked and twisted. Screaming in agony, the agent struggled feebly as his two cohorts stood up in an attempted defense of their comrade. However, one look from Olga was all it took to set the two back in their seats.

"Three grown men," Olga began in a cold and rabid tone, "feeling it necessary to measure themselves against a little boy; how utterly pathetic."

Twisting the young man's arm a bit more, Olga elicited another shriek from the man at her mercy.

"I don't know how long you have been tormenting that boy," Olga began again, "and I don't care to. Listen and listen well, if I ever see you three even look at that child with anything other than a passing glance, I _will_ show you why the old _Komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnost_ was feared throughout the world."

Releasing the young agent's wrist, Olga looked down upon him with disgust as he doubled over in pain.

"You meal time is over," Olga flatly stated, now go."

Watching as the three left in a hurry, Olga took a moment to calm herself before walking over to Alpha. Taking out a handkerchief, she sat facing Alpha before motioning to the child.

"Come here; _boika_," Olga called.

Complying with her request, Alpha turned to face Olga, but his expression never wavered. Taking the handkerchief in hand, Olga cleaned the boy's face and arm with efficiency.

"You could've killed those three without as much as a blink." Olga stated as she shook out her handkerchief.

"…I know," Alpha muttered.

"Then why didn't you?"

"…Because…"

"…Yes, _dragotsyennyy ditya_?"

"…Because…'Omi wouldn't want me to."

Kneeling down, Olga looked into Alpha's eyes only to find a sorrow eclipsing anything she had ever felt before.

"Nyromi wouldn't have wanted then hurting you either."

"I…Olga," Alpha muttered as he began to shake. "I just…I can't. Every time I want to hurt someone, I want to hurt them real bad."

"Al…"

"I want them to feel how I feel. I want to hear them scream and when I think about it…I want to laugh. Olga, 'Omi wouldn't want me to be this way. She wouldn't want me to do those things…would she?"

Placing a curved finger under Alpha's chin, Olga lifted the boy's head until her eyes leveled with his once more. In those wet and shaky eyes; Olga found something that even the great doctors of the facility had missed. Alpha was so consumed by the grief of his many losses; that it took using every ounce of willpower available to him to keep from losing his mind; if only to please the one woman he had come to lean upon, even after her death.

Overcome by the intensity of this tragedy before her, Olga pulled Alpha close. Within a moment's breath, Olga wept as she attempted to take Alpha's sorrow unto herself. Knowing that Alpha was experiencing a thousand lifetimes worth of pain, Olga could only hope that in time that she would be able to heal him. Living in the Soviet Union was increasingly hard, especially for a young girl, but Olga had her family to push her to not relinquish that last bit of humanity to the Union. Alpha had fewer and fewer left who would aid him in such, and because of this, Olga was fearful for Alpha's future.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Author's Note: **__Komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnosti is the Romanized transliteration for the Russian KGB._

**XXIII**

From the open doorway leading into the cafeteria, Giacomo saw Olga embrace Alpha as if he were her own. For many, looking at Alpha was a constant reminder of Nyromi's absence; that she was not there by his side. Knowing of Olga's repeated attempt to become the boy's immediate supervisor, Giacomo was at the least grateful that at least one other cared for the boy. Feeling a twinge of guilt strike him, Giacomo strode forward to interrupt this moment of affection.

"Excuse me," Giacomo said as he approached the two.

Slowly turning away to wipe her eyes, Olga quickly regained her composure as she stood to face Giacomo.

"Yes; Doctor," Olga hurried.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"Well…I…not at the moment Doctor: Is there any trouble?"

""No-no, not at all, Olga; it's just that I was hoping that Alpha could help me with an errand. That is, if you don't have anything planned for him."

"Perhaps later, Doctor; but not at the present time."

"I see, let me know of your plans and I will assure you that Alpha is free."

"Thank you; Giacomo," Olga said managing half a smile.

As she watched Dr. Giacomo Gianncomo walk away with Alpha at his side, a sudden chill crawled up Olga's spine. Noticing that Giacomo's hands remained behind him instead of reaching out for the child as he had done so many times before; an air of apprehension surrounded Olga. Dismissing the notion as her coming down from the emotional onslaught she allowed of herself; Olga took Alpha's tray along with her own to the nearest garbage receptacle. Thinking that she needed a distraction, Olga decided that the remaining day might be better spent at the shooting range.

* * *

"So," Alpha started as he lifted another box into Giacomo's Lancia Delta Integrale. "Why are we moving boxes again?"

"These," Giacomo stated as he hefted another unmarked case into a small trailer nearby," are going to the new compound in Rome."

"…Why Rome?" Alpha asked after thinking on it for a moment. "Wouldn't we be at risk of exposure?"

"Apparently the higher ups think that hiding what you do is a good idea when done out in the open."

"…Oh," Alpha managed as he attempted to rationalize the decision.

"Now come, help me finish this and we'll take a small detour on the way there."

"A detour; where to Giacomo?"

"To a very special place…for both of us."

For the next hour, Alpha and Dr. Gianncomo carried boxes into the trailer, filling it to capacity. After attaching the secured trailer to the Lancia; Giacomo was quick to leave the compound as he sped towards Lake Mezzano.

* * *

_-Approximately one hour later-_

Fernando Bianchi ran throughout the administration building asking but one question. Quickly running out of options, Bianchi finally burst into the break lounge for the administrative assistants. Looking at the women within the small room with a glare laced with panic; Bianchi asked, "Where's Giacomo?"

All six of the women in the room gave Bianchi their full attention, if only to grant the doctor a blank look. Taking their silence as his answer, Bianchi took the elevator to the top floor. Upon arrival, Bianchi marched right past the receptionist.

"We have a situation," Bianchi nearly yelled as he entered the Director's office.

"…Bianchi?" Director Lorenzo asked, angry at the sudden intrusion.

"He has everything; the lab results, the trial samples, the corroborating research…everything!"

"Who…?" Lorenzo asked as he stood to march out the door.

"Giacomo…Dr. Giacomo Gianncomo."

"Whatever he has cannot possibly be much," Lorenzo stated as he picked up his phone to dial the front gate. "I personally saw to it that his new security clearance would be restricted."

"But the archives," Bianchi said as he planted his hands on Lorenzo's desk. "We never locked him out of the damned archives!"

"…My God," Lorenzo managed as intense panic set in.

A moment later; front gate security answered Director Lorenzo's call, "Front entrance, Emilio speaking."

"Emilio; this is Chief Director, Giacomo Lorenzo."

"Sir," Emilio simply stated as his tone immediately became more rigid. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Have you seen Dr. Gianncomo leave the premises?"

"Yes, sir; I have. Approximately one hour to an hour and a half ago. He left in his Lancia with a trailer attached."

Switching the receiver to speakerphone; Lorenzo continued to speak as he put on his suit jacket, "Did he mention where he was going?"

"He said something about showing the boy around Rome, sir."

"…Boy?"

"Subject Zero was with him, sir."

Hitting the _END_ button on his desk phone in passing, Director Lorenzo dialed a short sequence on his mobile.

"Mr. Croce," Lorenzo commanded.

"Director;" Jean answered. "Are you calling to check on the progress?"

"No, I need whatever you can give me. We have a _Code: Abel_, I repeat; a _Code: Abel_."

"What are your orders, sir?"

"I need road blocks on all major roads going to and from Rome with patrols on the smaller outlying roads."

"Yes; sir," Jean replied.

"Give me an immediate halt on every ferry, train, and aircraft outbound from Italy."

"Yes, sir, but I am not sure for how long I can maintain the halt without alerting the other agencies."

"Maintain it for as long as you can. Also I want notices sent out to every possible Agency and law enforcement body to look for a white early nineties Lancia Integrale. Tell them that a convicted molester has one of the Vatican's choir boys. That should alert them enough and still keep it out of the press."

"I'm on it, sir; anything else?"

"Yes; do not, I repeat, _do not_ harm Giacomo and especially not the boy."

"Yes, sir; Dr. Gianncomo and Subject Zero are not to be harmed."

The elevator arrived just as Director Lorenzo ended the call on his mobile. When he arrived outside of the main building's lobby, his mobile rang once more.

"Go ahead," Lorenzo said stepping into the sedan waiting for him.

"Director Lorenzo of the Chrysalis Foundation?" a stern voice asked on the other end.

"Yes, what is it?"

"This is the Polizia de Stato; we have a bead on your BOLO."

"Where…and when?"

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago his Integrale was seen entering the private campground area of Lake Mezzano."

"Thank you," L:orenzo added before ending the call. Dialing another number, Lorenzo waited for Jean to answer.

"Sir," Jean retorted.

"Mr. Croce, we have a change of plans. I want everything we have sent to Lake Mezzano."

"Do we have a confirmed sighting?"

"Not one hundred percent, but I have a hunch."

"I understand, sir."

"Leave the other Agencies with their orders. I don't want any prying eyes if this gets…dirty."

* * *

Standing at the shore of Lake Mezzano, Alpha threw another flat stone and watched it skip before it disappeared into the blackness of the evening dusk. Approaching him from behind, Giacomo softly placed his hands on Alpha's shoulders. Jumping at first; Alpha quickly leaned into the good Doctor's warm embrace.

Breathing slow and deliberately; Giacomo spoke softly, "Do you remember child? Do you remember when we first came here?"

"Yeah…I do; we caught so many fish that first day."

"And we even discussed the _why_ in regards to the shapes of the constellations. What is it I said that made you laugh? …Oh yes, I remember…."

"Who doesn't like to play connect the dots every once in a while?" Giacomo and Alpha said in unison.

A hint of a chuckle escaped Alpha's lips and in the next moment, the air suddenly became silent as he and Giacomo stared into the night sky. After a time, Alpha stepped away from Giacomo before turning to look at him.

"…Giacomo?" Alpha asked looking deeply into his eyes. "Was it supposed to be this way?"

Gazing at the child before him, Giacomo was at a complete loss for words. Alpha continued to stare at Giacomo awaiting an answer. Then suddenly, Alpha could smell smoke coming from the trees. Soon after, a faint red glow could be seen. Obeying the trained instincts that had become as second nature; Alpha ran though the trees toward the rising glow. Making a feeble attempt to keep up with Alpha; Dr. Gianncomo cursed his age as he did so.

Arriving at the clearing where Giacomo's Lancia sat; the scene that greeted Alpha was one of complete shock. Giacomo's Lancia Integrale, along with the attached trailer, was completely engulfed in flames.

"Giacomo…!" Alpha called. Hearing the old man approaching; he called again, "Giacomo, your car is on fire!"

"…I know," Giacomo answered solemnly after catching his breath.

"B…but," Alpha stammered as he divided his attention between Giacomo and the inferno.

"Just let it burn, _bambino_; just let it burn."

Glancing at Giacomo on last time, Alpha then turned toward the flaming vehicle.

Reaching into his left pocket, Giacomo felt the cold weight of the small .44 caliber revolver.

_"Joaquin Solomon, it's his name."_

Mounting his finger within the trigger guard, Giacomo pulled the gun from his pocket and brandished it at his side. With great reluctance Giacomo aimed the barrel and leveled it against the back of Alpha's head.

_"Because you are all I have, Giacomo."_

Taking slow and deep breaths, Giacomo tried in vain to hold his hand steady. Every time he held his breath in anticipation of squeezing the trigger, Giacomo could hear the boy's laughter. It had been so long since Alpha's laughter had reached his ears.

With tears filling the wizened lines of his face, Giiacomo shut his eyes as he lowered the revolver.

"…Agent Alpha!" Giacomo yelled at the boy.

Standing upright almost immediately; Alpha answered, "Sir," his body acting on reflex to the command. Only a moment later did Alpha wonder of Giacomo's _command_.

"Listen and listen well," Giacomo began, for these are the only orders I shall issue and I will not issue them again. I expect them to be followed to the letter. Do you understand, Agent Alpha?"

"Yes, sir; Doctor," Alpha once more answered on reaction.

"Your orders…your orders are to," Giacomo said as his voice began to break. "Your orders are to escape from that wretched place by however means you can. Upon your escape, you are to live. Live….as best you can…my _bambino_."

With his last phrase, Giacomo could no longer contain his emotion as his will had been set.

"No child, it wasn't supposed to be this way. By heaven, it wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Giacomo…?"

"I…" Giacomo tried as he attempted to catch his breath. "I'm sorry…I'm so very sorry…but I'll never let this happen again. Bambino…please; forgive me…"

Looking back, Alpha turned just in time to hear Giacomo's revolver fire.

* * *

Some time later; Director Lorenzo and Dr. Bianchi arrived with a cadre of SISDE agents. Sprinting into the small clearing, Bianchi was the first to react to the burning wreck that had formally been Giacomo's Lancia and rented trailer.

"No!" Binachi yelled in futility. "Put it out, somebody, please!"

As Bianchi screamed orders to whoever was closest, Lorenzo walked to where he saw the boy. As Lorenzo approached Alpha, he discovered the scene that the boy couldn't take his eyes off of; Dr. Gianncomo had taken his own life.

"Agent Alpha," Lorenzo called, yet he received no response.

Alpha felt the need to cry, to wail, to mourn the man who had become as a father to him. However, the only comprehension his young mind held was a parade of endless screaming; a symphony of shattered glass that he would not be able to rid himself of, for some time to come.


End file.
